Tron: Aftermath
by QuilSniv
Summary: Tron, ravaged by CLU's Black Guard, finds Anon's ID disc in the Outlands. Resurrecting his former partner, the duo then embark on an adventure to save the Grid from CLU's destructive reign, keep an enclave of ISOs alive, and, most importantly, keep Flynn's dream of the utopian system alive. Tron: Evolution and Uprising crossover
1. Chapter 1: The System's Evolving

Chapter 1: The System's Evolving

* * *

I wandered through the Outlands. Everything was a blur. I thought back to the beginning of the end. The Black Guard was a ferocious foe, almost as powerful as CLU's coup. They nearly killed me. They nearly killed Flynn. And they nearly killed Anon. The prototype system monitor, fresh from the rez point. They tried to derezz a program that saved hundreds of innocent lives at once from...

Abraxas. The viral infection that ravaged the Grid. CLU said that he was once an ISO. The disc shard that Anon had broken off showed that. But he didn't realize that not all ISOs were corrupted. But he was blind with anger. The anger of Flynn's opposite love for the ISOs... so he tried to kill Flynn. He nearly succeeded, too, with his own prototype. The Black Guard. Only 30 of them on Grid at the time, and 30 of the most dangerous soldiers on it.

Finally, my legs gave way as the energy drained out of them. The world was going black. I saw two figures in the distance. One had blond- brown hair, and was wearing robes to replace his signature jacket. Flynn. So my efforts hadn't been in vain. He lived. The other was a girl. A tattoo was glowing on the side of her arm. An ISO. The one from the installation ceremony. I wasn't going to, live on the other hand. The four squares on my chest were flickering. Flynn helped the girl up, restoring her to full health, and taking her away.

He didn't even notice me. His most trusted system monitor, Tron, abandoned and discarded. Left for dead. I was going to close my eyes, let deresolution take me away. But the energy spring intervened. The ground beneath me sank under my body, and green liquid spilled over my revived body. I wanted to stay there forever, allow the energy to overtake my body.

But I didn't. Collecting the energy needed to survive for several cycles in bottles, I walked towards the wreckage of CLU's VTOL Recognizer. One of thousands, it was commissioned to begin the genocide of the ISO factions. Legs and arms from the sentry pilots were scattered everywhere, mixed with the pile of white particles... wait, white? Looking around some more, I found an ID disc, the same color as the mysterious particles. Picking it up, I scanned the contents, holograms proving my suspicions.

The derezzed program was Anon.

Holding his disc as I paced back and forth, body parts were reassembled in the correct places. If I didn't do this correctly, Anon would appear a completely different program, with limbs in different sockets. After grueling hours of reassembling scattered code, the pixels formed themselves into a familiar figure. The system monitor who could take the fight to CLU himself again. Walking over towards the system monitor, whose blue circuitry had been replaced by white, I handed over his disk and spoke.

"Welcome Back to the Grid, Program."


	2. Chapter 2: The Game Has Changed

Chapter 2: The Game Has Changed

A/N: Hah, mini-hiatus. I spent a heckuva lot of time in school, so it took me a while to crank this one out. I hope to have chapter 6 of PMD: Into the Void out by Saturday. In the meanwhile, enjoy TRON: Aftermath Chapter 2!

* * *

Flynn's abandoned them. Both Tron and Anon. Not to mention the entire Grid. He went into hiding with the girl, who Anon sacrificed his life to save. As Tron handed Anon a bottle of energy across the makeshift rock shelter, he began to think about several things. Things that Anon could help answer.

First off, Abraxas. How he had appeared. How he even existed. It was an intriguing thought. During the first known attack by Abraxas, Anon had sliced off part of the virus's disc. On the system monitor's belt, more Abraxas Shards were sealed, containing memories of the deceased virus. Tron also noticed the presence of the Tron Files, data chips that the first System Monitor had created on several programs, locations, and vehicles on the Grid. But the shards were more important.

"These are definitely from an ISO," Tron muttered, transferring the memory data from the shards into his own disc, "An Alpha- Class, like Jalen. He was the leader of the entire Arjia faction, until he died in the Game Grids. Clu suggested afterwards it was an accident." Anon looked up. Despite the obvious fact that a helmet covered his face, it was clear that he was surprised. "Flynn, on the other hand, thought it was murder." Tron showed a hologram of a disc award ceremony. Jalen, leader of the Arjia faction, was waving to a cheering crowd. CLU was standing next to him, holding a yellow disc upgrade.

"I'm going with Flynn on this one. Jalen was last seen at the award ceremony. Thousands of programs from Arjia city were there, and never saw him the next day. Let's listen to these Virus Shards and see what happened..." Activating a shard, Tron listened carefully, while Anon leaned forward.

"...does this upgrade do, CLU?..." Jalen was at least resisting to CLU, according to the speech.

"You'll find out, Jalen. You'll find out." CLU was using his silky, reassuring tone to his advantadge. "It makes you more... magnetic. Soon you'll have an army of programs behind you, with you as their lord. You'll be in control of everybody on Grid..."

"Yes..." Jalen's shy voice was turning into a rasping, metal on metal sound, that signified his transformation. "Power... is my purpose. My mission is simple. Infect... destroy..." Tron knew enough of what happened next to shut off the audio clip.

"CLU orchestrated everything." Anon looked up with at least the knowledge that he understood what was going on. "He purposely allowed Jalen to come back into the tournament, after he was disqualified for being an ISO." Anon said nothing. Typical of him. "He then turned Jalen into Abraxas so that he could frame the ISOs for evolving into some crazed virus."

"But that's not true." Anon, voice resembling Kevin Flynn, had spoke. Tron's tired eyes widened at the realization that the silent System Monitor could speak. "When I was helping the girl, Quorra, on CLU's _Regulator_, Abraxas looked like he had some sense of freedom. He said, "I wanted death, and you gave me this. I was robbed of my future, and I shall take away yours."

"What do you think that could mean?" Tron leaned back on his rock, using his foot to put out the fire. "We know enough for now. I saw some kind of warship crash in the distance from earlier. Guess you did that, huh?" Anon nodded modestly, not wanting to take too much credit for singlehandedly blowing up a ginormous battleship. "That must be CLU's warship. We can't stay here in the open forever, and where there's a crash site..."

"There's always a supply stock," Anon finished. "Great minds think alike, friend." Helping the wounded System Monitor up, Tron held out his lightcycle baton.

"You still have one of these on you?" Anon held up a baton for the 4th generation Lightcycle, something that should have perished with him on the warship. Along with Flynn's upgrade to Anon's white circuitry, the baton glowed the same color. "Good. Let's ride." Cracking the batons, the two sped off in the direction in CLU's warship.

Anon gazed in wonder when the two arrived at the site of CLU's warship. It was massive, bigger than Anon had seen it. Then again, he was a big enough hurry to not notice the size.

"These energy conduits are still active," Tron pointed to an Energy Transfer Conduit, or ETC, "That'll work for provisions, even though it's purified." Walking over to a cargo crate, Tron found several batons. Gesturing Anon over, the two began sorting out the batons. Anon had the luck of picking up a Light Staff, something he had mimicked Black Guards to train with. Tron had found a Light Katana, a specialized sword that Tron would know about, since he faced off against four of CLU's katana variant Guard.

"These are a jackpot item stock," Tron murmured, pulling out a staff containing a Light Katana, "Only CLU's Black Guard have access to these weapons. Maybe..."

"What?" Anon looked over, sheathing his staff.

"There might be more Black Guards that survived the crash. If they're unconscious, or trapped under rubble, we can reprogram them, Inspire a revolution. Take the most deadly soldiers on the Grid, you and me included, to CLU. Make the Grid free again."

"I think we found a few of them," Anon stuttered, drawing his disc. Tron, eyes wide in fear, turned around to find six of CLU's best fighting force, flickering orange circuitry indicating near-death. Two were of the grenadier variant, and were packed with hundreds of grenades in a Wing Chute pack. Two more were the Light Staff variant, only meant to stun, and then allow the other two, the Katana variant, to take the kill.

"Split them up," Tron whispered, readying a smoke grenade from the supply crate, "We take one of each variant. They're supposed to be able to operate in more than one of their class, so without another of their type... they're weaker."

"I'm keeping them alive," Anon croaked, switching his disc to Bomb mode, "It'll be better to have more programs on the resistance."

"Deal," Tron growled, counting off the surprise attack, "Three... two... one..."

"Now!" Anon shouted as the smoke grenade exploded. The Black Guard covered their helmets as the System Monitors rushed in.

The Game Had Changed.

* * *

A/N: Yep, Anon spoke. I tried writing without Anon speaking, but there would be too many dialogue gaps. I really liked this chapter, and I hope you do too.

Next Time: Anon and Tron make new allies as they travel to the ruins of Jetrona City, far off into the Outlands.


	3. Chapter 3: This Wasn't Planned

Chapter 3: This Wasn't Planned

A/N: Another mini-hiatus. I had to work hard on this chapter, kept finding new ideas. Enjoy Chapter 3.

* * *

The HUD in Tron's view flickered to life as the helmet encased his skull. The smoke clung to the plastic as Tron swept his foot under the first Black Guard his legs could find. Anon, on the other hand, was smashing his disc against the helmet of his grenadier Black Guard. The helmet made a resounding CRACK while the Black Guard crumpled to the ground. Before a Light Staff Guard could get near him, Anon threw his disc into the smoke. The glowing white outer edge streaked through the rubble, splitting the Light Staff in half.

Tron, on the other hand, had received both katana Guards, who were both wildly swinging their swords at him, using their X-95 Magneto Propulsion Wing Chutes to dodge his disc attacks. Before they could dodge, a Ground Rez knocked out their Wing Chutes. Kicking them both in the head to knock them out, Tron watched as Anon, with his hands full, used a Time Warp from his stasis disc to paralyze his adversaries.

Not bothering to take his helmet off, Tron smiled to his partner, picking up the Black Guard ID discs.

"Shouldn't take too long to reprogram them," Tron said, "Flynn taught a thing or two on restoring programs. We'll have them on our side in no time." Handing Anon three ID discs, the two set to work.

* * *

Repurposing Black Guards was not an easy task, Tron thought, even for a User like Flynn. CLU had designed the Black Guard to be incurable, only to able to serve him. Anon, however, had broken the streak of impossibility.

"I got one!" Anon was overjoyed as he handed Tron the disc, who then used the data to copy over to the other guards. Twisting their heads around, the Black Guard was tied to an ETC, unable to move from their current position.

Tron placed one of the discs on a Black Guard. Unable to do anything, the guard screamed and writhed as the reprogramming took place. His orange circuits were slowly transitioning from orange to white, probably slowed down by the resistance the Black Guard was giving.

"He'll be fine," Tron said, editing the other two discs in his possession, "He's just trying to make it look like it hurts. We'll release him once he's fully turned to normal."

At last, the grueling transformation was completed. Anon, not wanting to have new allies hurt, untied the Guard, inspecting him for any signs of physical damage.

"Program, your name." Tron used a voice he had never heard before. The Black Guard twisted his head, the two thin cylinders on his cheeks providing a form of eye.

"Black Guard RIOT." The Black Guard shook his head, different conversations going on in his head. "CLU is the savior.. _bzzt_... Tron Lives... _bzzt_.. to serve CLU is a privilege... bzzt... Tron, you're my leader. How can I help?" Tron bored into Anon's eyes with the cheesiest grin ever known to programming.

"See, what did I tell you?" Tron helped the Guard up, giving him the first command he had given in cycles. "Riot, I need you to help us reprogram the other Guards. It's essential to the Grid's survival as we know it." The Black Guard refused to take the helmet off, but nodded in compliance. Grabbing two discs, the Guard, probably known as Riot, began recoding faster than even Flynn had done. Anon blinked back in shock at this sight, while Tron gazed in amazement. This was already going well.

* * *

Riot cracked his knuckles before adding the finishing touches to the last disc. He had apparently restored his share in half the time it took both Anon and Tron to finish one each.

"This should do the trick," Riot said, attaching the disc to his fellow comrade. Unlike Riot's experience, this guard was completely still while he transformation occurred. Anon presumed that the Guard was still unconscious, yet the Black Guard turned his head and spoke as the restoration completed.

"My name is Sivet, Black Guard 045632346. Your command is my bidding." Sivet, Riot. Two easy names to remember, yet Tron wasn't sure that the others would be easy.

Eventually, the other four Guards were given the white circuitry that Tron bestowed to them. Their names were Japter, Hax, Pyro, and Flad. Tron turned to face Anon, who was sitting on a crate, and his restored Black Guard.

"This is a time of crisis," Tron spoke wearily, drilling into the helmeted eyes of the Black Guard once his helmet stripped off his head, "And we might be the only thing standing between freedom and CLU's reign. You will retain your appearance, and your skills. But your allegiance and name will have changed: from now on, you will be known as the Light Guard. For the light that the potential freedom could shine on the Grid!" The newly rechristened Light Guard cheered a war cry. Anon patted Tron on the shoulder, both of them smiling at what they had created.

"On the order of CLU, you halt, program!" A sentry shouted from inside the rubble. The dream was shattered as two Light Tanks fired at once at the rebel programs. Anon, Hax and Pyro hid behind a stack of rubble, Tron and Riot throwing grenades at the tank's cannon.

Something exploded, orange pixels scattering inside of the debris. The tank's only weapon had been destroyed, allowing Japter and Sivet to throw two explosives inside of the tanks. All the sentries that had picked the fight began to run into the rubble.

"I guess our test run was a success," Anon cheerily exclaimed, looking inside the tanks and derezzing any signs of a fight, "But this has shown us that the Regulator won't be good as a permanent shelter. We have to get somewhere with ETCs and a place to easily plan attacks."

"CLU said somewhere about Jetrona City as of of his potential targets," Flad muttered, reading a map. "It's an ISO city, not far from Argon and Gallium."

"Then that would leave Argon susceptible to attack from CLU's forces. Gallium isn't worth taking control of, and the Purge is going to reach Jetrona." Hax looked spooked at the sight of ISOs being massacred in hundreds. The way his helmet drooped when he spoke showed that.

"Lucky for us that CLU has no warship, now that the Regulator is destroyed." Tron grinned at Anon, who gestured for their new allies to mount their Light Cycles. The white circuited resistance sped off to stop CLU's soldiers, hoping that Jetrona was still standing.

* * *

"I can see Jetrona!" Anon shouted over the adrenaline roar of his Light Cycle. Pyro sped ahead, only to skid to a stop at the top of an outcrop overlooking Jetrona. Tron, Anon, and the Light Guard stood in horror, pulling their Light Bikes into Baton form as they watched Recognizers pummel towers to ground zero.

They were too late. The army of CLU were already killing ISOs.

The Purge was ending.

* * *

A/N: We're going to be going on hiatus for a while, so I can work on PMD: Into the Void. Got the "To serve CLU is a privilege" from a TRON: Uprising episode, "Welcome Home". This chapter was written nicely in my opinion. Please review and enjoy the story.

Next: Tron, Anon, and the Light Guard find out that CLU's army is heading to nearby Argon, and make a joyous discovery.


	4. Chapter 4: Building An Army

A/N: Sorry for the wait. My team of detailers in the story kept making last minute adjustments. Remember, I write the plot. They write the basic summary. Enjoy Chapter 4!

* * *

Chapter 4: Building an Army

Tron, System Monitor of the Grid, rarely failed any task Flynn gave him or that he had taken into his own hands. Now, the task that he and Anon had placed on their plate had failed. Any hope of rescuing ISOs would mean ending the revolution before it had a chance to start.

"This is just too unreal," Hax stammered, leaning his hands on the handles of the Light Cycle he was riding. "Hundreds of deaths at once, I could actually feel it. It felt horrible."

"The ISOs have a distinguishable connection to the Grid," Tron explained, gesturing to his team to speed into the ruins of Jetrona, "Any program can feel the death of an ISO. Especially another ISO." Tron gazes in fear at the crumbling towers, giant gashes of code seeping out like user blood. Turning to his teammates, he points to the city and barks, "We're going into the city to search for surviving ISOs. Pyro, Hax, you'll be coming with me and Anon through the Bridge City sector. Riot, Sivet, you and the others will go through the buildings and search for injured ISOs."

"T-Tron.." Anon stuttered, pulling the System Monitor in his direction, "I don't think that'll be necessary." Looking in the same direction as Anon's hand, Tron gaped in wonder. ISOs were coming to them. In the hundreds. Unscathed, like the Purge had never come near the area, in a single file line. The way Flynn had found them, in TC29. The same cycle CLU began plotting against Flynn, the day he plotted everything until now.

"How did so many survive?" Pyro's grated voice shook from behind his helmet, at the line of ISOs pouring from the ruins of Jetrona, "This is... unreal. It has to be a dream. A really good one." At once, an ISO, one brave enough to speak, walked forward and shook Tron's hand warily. Tron, on the other hand, was relieved enough to see surviving ISOs that he started acting like Flynn, shaking the ISO and patting him on the shoulder.

"What's your name, program?" Tron said, allowing the ISO to back away in gratitude for a Basic welcoming him warmly.

"My name is Guile," the ISO said, "Why do you welcome us? In all of our compile date, and our resurrection, no Basic has ever treated us with respect."

"Whether it's a Basic or ISO, it doesn't matter. You're a program, and that's what counts. I'm System Monitor Tron JA-307020, Tron for short, and my partner here is Anonymous UB-967945 which in short is Anon."

"We're here to help," Anon gestured to the wreckage of the ISO city, "All we ask is that our resistance force be allowed to stay in the area for a time. In return, we will give you protection and repair your city to the best of our ability." The ISO leader, "Guile", looked cautiously at his advisor, who nodded in compliance. Turning back to the eight programs before him, Guile spoke.

"We accept your offer. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish, and we will help you with your repairs. If you are looking for soldiers in a revolution, we can provide you with many of our ISO warrior-"

"Stop. Now." The voice echoed, with no cave to support the voice. It reminded Anon of the leader of the Arjian faction. And it proved to be his same guess. Radia, leader of the ISOs, stepped out of the crowd. Anon's helmet shot up, having seen the ISO leader derezzed by Abraxas. Shattered into oblivion, vanishing into thin air with an explosion of energy.

"Radia?" Anon questioned, "What in the name of Flynn are you doing here? I saw you derezzed, behind the helmet." Radia's appearance was differed from her rather revealing robes she wore before her deresolution. She kept her glowing white facial tattoos, and her elaborate headdress, but instead of her original Light Suit, she bore a less revealing version of her old Light Suit, looking more like a black dress with white circuitry covering it than a Light Suit.

"Accidents do happen in the Codestream Nexus, Monitor," Radia said, "It has the ability to transfer program data, even if deresolution occurs. But that is not our focus." Turning to Guile, she bore daggers into the ISOs eyes. "Are you mad, Guile? We are resurrected ISOs. We were on the Codestream Nexus. I don't think our warriors would be so lucky a second time, where Argon is a biased, no-good society that now hates us. You've lost it."

"That's not how it's going to work," Sivet, the first Light Guard to speak since the ISO arrival, finally spoke, "The warriors will get their pick. They can either stay here as watchmen, trained by us, or fight in the field and learn from experience. Anybody who agrees with these terms, step behind Tron." Nearly every ISO stepped behind Tron, Anon and the Light Guard. Radia and several supporters refused to budge.

"Come on, Radia," Tron pleaded, the first time Anon had ever seen him do so, "We're asking for you to fight. We're just asking for you to help support the ISO community, and in exchange we'll protect the city from CLU." Radia remained stubborn, but then looked up and gestured to her supporters.

"We'll join your ragtag rebellion, Tron. But be warned... no good deed goes unpunished." Radia walked into the city, Tron and Anon looking at the large amount of work too be done. A lot of it.

* * *

_Several Cycles later... _

"Tron, city center is finished in reconstruction," an ISO reported, "It is fit for you and your Light Guard to accommodate in."

"Thank you, program," Tron smiled warmly, shaking the hand of the ISO. Turning back to Anon, Tron seemed giddy.

"Isn't this amazing?" Tron looked around at the ISOs at work, then back at Anon. "We're rebuilding ISO civilization, right under CLU's nose. We're undoing his mistakes, without any notice." As Tron began to stride to the city center, he noticed a large amount of vehicles heading towards Gallium City. Turning to Anon, Tron turned a bright pale. "If those vehicles are heading towards Gallium, then there's sure to be a massive task force heading towards the city as well."

"But Gallium has no strategic value," Anon said, holding out a holographic map, "They may be planning to use Gallium as a joint function, to reach Argon. I say we take out the convoy, before a glitch-load of supplies make it to their destination. Think of the juice they're bringing to their commander right now. I say we go for it." Tron thought for a second before nodding.

* * *

The Sentry on the driver's side of the first truck in the convoy had no thoughts occurring inside his head, except to reach the rendezvous point with General Tesler in Gallium. He had more than six thousand pounds of metal, batons, and meaningless valuables from ISOs, taken as victory medals from Arjia. Anybody who was lucky enough to evac the city before the city blew up, or didn't get derezzed by the rogue System Monitor, held onto these possessions with their life. Yet they had no value. No boost in morale. The ISOs were gone. CLU was taking every city on the Grid for his own purposes, whether they had strategic value or were just a boonies settlement like the Bostrumites.

He was so focused on delivering the supplies to Gallium, to please his commander into giving him a coveted position of sergeant, that he failed to see a small dent in the road. In the Outlands, small bumps in the road were usually very rare. But this wasn't naturally formed. The Sentry didn't care until he drove over it. A blast of explosive energy blew up the side his comrade was on, derezzing his partner and flipping the vehicle onto it's side, pixels scattered over the area.

A double door swung open, both programs storming inside and wearing helmets. One program began swiping through crates of supplies, while the other made his way towards the Sentry. Objectives flashed through the Sentry's eyes; _Query: Retreat for lives sake. Override: Stand Ground. Override: Directive 30, Signal for reinforcements._ As the Sentry began to move his arm, a hand, white circuits overshadowing his orange, crushing the button intending for pressing. The Sentry, in panic and cornered, turned to see his assailant. The only thing he saw was four squares, positioned into a well known "T". Tron stood before him, speaking the last words the Sentry would ever hear, all because of his focus on one objective.

"Spare me... please, mercy..." the Sentry gasped, Tron smirking behind his helmet. The Monitor, the one who killed Abraxas, stood in the sidelines.

"There can be no witnesses,_ traitor_," Tron growled his white disc slamming into the head of the panicking Sentry.

* * *

Tron pulled his disc out of the mook Sentry, before joining Anon in the crate compartment.

"Mostly batons in here," Anon bluntly replied to Tron's silent question, "They have several of a prototype vehicle, a kind of aircraft called a Light Jet. According to the manifest, at least."

"So CLU has been playing with code. Typical, to make his forces airworthy outside of a Recognizer," Tron said, the Light Guard joining the scene. "Look at these. Light Katanas. Very effective. Load them in the ISO vehicles." The Light Guard complied, picking up crates and lapsing them to the truck the ISOs lent them. Anon lashed out and grabbed a baton out of Japter's crate.

"What's this?" Anon questioned, Japter shrugging in unknowing. "I'll see what it is." Anon cracked the baton open. Data poured out into his hands. First came a barrel, a main bullet magazine, and finally an armrest and trigger.

"This is a firearm," Tron said, everybody staring at him, "Flynn told me about them. Basically, they're as deadly as an ID disc in the Real World. For long range combat. They're also referred to as a gun. This model looks like.." the Tron Files on Anon's belt activated at Tron's command, showing him the model of weapon. "...an AR-15. Probably the same as the other batons." As Anon pushed the gun back into a baton, loud sirens could be heard in the distance. In the direction of Argon. Tron pulled out his disc and began duplicating several items.

"What are you doing?" Hax asked, Tron putting the disc back on his back. Instantly, a second Tron began materializing before him. Tron turned and smiled, turning to his doppelganger. Anon spoke for him.

"Something that was supposed to done long ago." After a long silence from all the Resistance, Tron spoke to his copy.

"You are Tron 2.0," Tron explained, "But you will be known as Tron. There is a war raging. I need you to hide in the Outlands, find a program to lead a revolution. That is your objective." The fake Tron nodded and smiled, before donning his helmet and driving away on his Light Cycle.

"Greetings, programs," exclaimed a monotone voice, echoed by amplifiers, "This is General Tesler. In the name of our great leader CLU, I now claim Argon City as occupied territory." Tron turned to his soldiers, and donned his helmet to join the stereotype of his comrades.

"Programs, the Revolution has begun."

* * *

A/N: And there you have it, programs! Chapter 5 will either feature Beck and Paige during Tron and Anon's resistance, or showing their progress thus far. You have the power: Vote on my profile poll, or post your opinion in the reviews


	5. Chapter 5: The Renegade Codex

Chapter 5: The Renegade Codex

_Fifty Cycles in the future, in the distant city of Argon..._

The streets of Argon were quieter than usual. Beck noticed this, grinning at his alter ego's wanted poster. Tron, the program who taught him everything he knew, was out in hiding, somewhere no program dared to travel, unless in desperation or insanity. The Outlands, a place of snow, rocks and Gridbugs. Yeah, those small things that travel in swarms, able to derezz a program in seconds.

Things were bouncing around in his mind. Like what Tron said about the revolution beginning. Like that totally worked, as CLU brought his entire air fleet, consisting of Recognizers, Light Jets, led by Dyson and CLU himself. But at least there was something good out of the whole catastrophe. CLU never left Tron City unless there was a serious threat to his rule. So something had finally been accomplished. Argon was basically in ruins, save for a small number of buildings, out of the millions that had once gleamed with the circuitry of those who believed in the Users. Now, all that remained was the flickering lights of what was once a beautiful metropolis.

He knew it was illegal to come out during the day, let alone at any time of day, but he couldn't help it. As a precaution, however, his helmet covered his head, providing cover for his identity.

What Beck didn't know about his mentor was that he was a copy, made by the original to make another revolution faction to join his predecessor's cause. Everything, from Tron and Anon's point of view, was going exactly according to their plan. But to Beck, everything had fallen apart. In his hands, Argon sat in ruins.

His mind was full of crazy things going on. How CLU knew Tron was alive, probably because of the fight with Dyson. Then, his friends. Mara and Zed had escaped with the entire garage crew when CLU's forces came into Argon. Next, Tesler. Tesler was obviously furious with CLU's arrival, taking a Light Copter to board CLU's throne ship. Whatever happened to him, it obviously wasn't good, since only Dyson came out to take command of Argon.

And finally... Paige. His ex-girlfriend, who had broken up with him because he had given her advice. She was thrown out of the Army by Dyson, who had not even been related as a friend to Tron in any way, shape, or form. This was a false memory implanted in Tron 2.0's mind by the original Tron. But back to the main subject, Beck still missed Paige. Like a giant hole had been ripped through his virtual heart. And she was still in Argon. Nobody had left, otherwise a catastrophe would occur, on Dyson's orders. He was going to scour the entire city until he found her. Or at least until the Guards caught him.

Rounding a corner, Beck soon came to find that Argon's biggest and most beautiful bridge had collapsed, all supports having snapped from Recognizer blasts. Up above, he saw, orange circuitry blazing in the blue hue of Argon...

"Paige!" Beck shouted, rezzing in a Light Jet from his closest baton. Soaring across the gap, he landed across from her, on the site of their first date. He could remember her, talking about how she would relax here, when she needed to think.

She glared at him, then turned away. Either she now hated him, or she just wanted to think alone. Even worse, she knew his secret, that he was the Renegade.

"Look, I need to talk..." Beck's sentence was interrupted by a punch back from Paige's fist. His chest stung with the pain, two knuckle jabs in the middle of his right ribcage.

"Go away." Paige pulled on her helmet, looking out into the Sea of Simulation.

"Oh, come on." Beck was on the verge of pleading to reconcile, "Don't give me that. We're both going through this the same way. Maybe we can work together..." Another punch almost shoved Beck off the side of the bridge, with him whirling his arms to stay in place.

"What's wrong with you?!" Beck shouted, temper rising quickly, "All I'm trying to do is help! Why can't you see that the ordinary mechanic isn't so ordinary? Why can't you see it?" Paige looked as if she was on the verge of remorse, then turned away. Beck sighed in disbelief. "Fine. Be that way. I'l be in Argon Square if you want to talk." Rezzing in his Light Jet, the only thing that remained second later was the Light Ribbon left behind.

Paige shook her head at her actions, tears well ready to be expelled. Jumping off the bridge and activating her Magneto Propulsion Chute, she flew off of Argon Bridge down to the road. To find Beck. To find help.

Argon Square had lost it's beauty long before now. The giant triangle, that held so many events, was now filled with Recognizer bomb shells. The magnificent screens that held signs Beck personally designed were now either cracked or shattered on the ground. There was nothing here, but Beck felt like there was some sentimentality in the place. It housed numerous adventures during his campaign of freedom.

From here, one could see the location of Dyson's command ship, once belonging to Tesler. Instead of using his smaller and less destructive one, Dyson brought down brute force on Argon. It was a sad cycle, hundreds of programs derezzed in minutes.

Beck pushed his Light Jet back into it's baton, scouring the area for nothing in particular. Putting his helmet away, Beck felt the wind rip and tear at his body, leaving him no choice but to hide under an alcove. It had been this way for seventeen cycles, fifty cycles since Tesler took over Argon.

The adrenaline sound of a Light Cycle filled the desolate air. It wasn't the generic Light Cycle that only Argon citizens used on the Grid, but a new model of Light Cycle. Both wheels were holed out, with an orange circuitry overtaking the black of Argon. Beck realized the figure, the second the Cycle formed back to a baton. Paige. She actually heeded his words, after all.

Paige started shouting his name, intent on finding Beck. She meandered through the rubble, anxious to find the one program she could trust right now.

"Looking for me?" Paige flinched as Beck crawled out from his outcrop. "Had a feeling you'd come here. What's up?" Paige reluctantly grit her teeth before inhaling and speaking:

"Do you have any room at your place?" Beck raised a surprised eyebrow. Paige sighed and continued speaking. "I have nowhere to live right now. Tesler's derezzed, Pavel's at Dyson's side, ruling over this place, and I'm out here, looking for stuff to survive. I was wondering if I could move in with you?" Beck raised his other eyebrow and curved his mouth into a sympathetic smile.

"Gladly," Beck smiled, gesturing to her to follow him via Light Bike, "I have tons of extra room. We'll be a while before we get there." Rezzing in the virtualized Light Cycles, the two sped off into the Outlands.

* * *

"So, why are we so far into the Outlands?" Paige questioned over the adrenaline roar of the Light Cycles and snowstorm surrounding the two of them. Beck smirked deviously, accelerating his Light Bike to complete what Tron taught him to do cycles ago. The flip was exhilarating, the canyon below as dark as the sky of the Grid. Then again, there really was no sky in the Grid. He thumbed Paige, signaling for his companion to do the same. Instead, Paige recklessly did what Beck attempted the first ever time he did it. Jumped without a vaulter. She jumped off her bike. Instead of a collapse into a Baton, it exploded, the pixels scattering to the bottom of the canyon. Clearly not as durable as the old incarnation that Beck originally owned.

"You want to know what you did wrong?" Beck coyly smirked from behind his helmet, "You hesitated. It's the worst thing to do in a Light Cycle chase. Learn from mistakes and adapt to your surroundings. Paige smiled, climbing onto the back of Beck's cycle, holding onto her companion's back as they sped towards the one thing that would change their lives.

* * *

"Tron!" Beck shouted, into the darkness of the hideout, Paige's eyebrows flinching in surprise at the mention of the name, "You here?" Paige followed shyly behind Beck, things slowly piecing together in her mind. Before her stood a copy, the real one to them, of the System Monitor from fable, thought to be dead. Turning to Paige, he grinned. "Don't worry. Tron doesn't bite."

"Wait..." Paige lost every ounce of breath that he had once contained, "So... Tron _does_ live? He's the Renegade? The one responsible for all of this destruction and chaos."

"Actually..." Beck's costume shifted, to the original Black Light Suit, long blue lines transitioning down his legs. Paige's usually fair skin turned a crazy shade of pale as the white "T" formed on his chest. "...I am." Paige looked up suddenly, then grabbed Beck's neck, pulling him in for a lip lock. It was passionate on Beck's side, the fire burning ferociously.

"Beck," Tron barked, pulling the two away from each other, "Listen to me. I'm going to tell you something that I should have right after Tesler took over. I'm not the real Tron. I'm a copy of my original self, and he's hiding in the ruins of Jetrona City, ready to start a revolution. The Uprising must merge with the Revolution. Dyson's on his way here, with a force of two hundred Sentries and ten Black Guards. You and Paige must escape, join my original and his accomplice. Now go."

Beck made his way to the door, then turned around. "Hey, Tron." The white suit that Tron bore was joined by the Light Staff and ID disc. "I won't forget you." Watching Beck and Paige's orange- now flickering white- Light Cycles speed off in the direction of Jetrona, Tron 2.0 closed his eyes an waited for the inevitable.

* * *

A/N: Yes, Tron 2.0 was derezzed by Dyson's troops after Beck and Paige left. This a chapter set in the future, the next chapter will be set in the present cycle. I hope you liked seeing Beck and Paige together again, because I sure did.

Next: Anon loses his voice, while a new and unexpected ally joins the Rebellion.


	6. Chapter 6: Us Noble Fighters

A/N: So I screwed up on the time setting, so we'll leave the second section of the chapter around the future, in Chapter 5. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 6: Us Noble Fighters

_Jetrona City, Present Cycle..._

Anon's eyes awoke to the all-familiar HUD that constantly sent scans to his mind. It was overfilled with "error" messages, most were slowly fading away, but some were the persistent type, refusing to go away. As the messages cleared out of their way, he saw the Rebellion founders standing over him: Tron and the Light Guard. Tron's eyebrows shot up when he saw Anon moving in full strength.

"You're alive, Anon!" Tron said in a complete fir of giddiness, "We thought you were going to die!" Anon looked at him harshly, to which Tron replied, "On second thought, forget that last part."

"But Tron's right," Flad said, holding up a datapad for Anon to grasp, "That ordnance explosion could've torn your limbs right out of the sockets. You're really lucky. The only thing that was injured was your vocal chords." Anon felt his chest and a searing pain responded to the touch. No broken limbs is great, but his vocal cords were a completely different story. He was going to have to reconstruct his entire communication used before his original deresolution.

"We'll leave you two to talk over things," Pyro said, motioning for his brethren to follow him. The room became much less crowded. It was a large an already spacious room, large crystalline fragments providing Light. Tron sat on a chair, gesturing to Anon to take a seat in the sofa opposite him. Anon complied, and lay down on the sofa.

"You probably want to know what happened to you, when you blacked out," Tron said, holding out a glass of energy. Anon took it, creating a hole large enough to drink the beverage before placing it on the glass table in front of them. "We were raiding an Occupational Convoy and succeded. They were smuggling a new model of Light Cycle, with fifteen percent less speed, but twenty-five percent more acceleration. Actually able to take discs, unlike it's predecessor. We sabotaged the convoy, took the supplies, along with the scrap metal they had to rebuild the city." Anon nodded, and a brief silence filled the room before Tron spoke again. "You heard a beeping sound, and went to investigate. Seconds later, an explosion came out of the truck."

"Flad and Riot went back in and found you next to a derezzed Sentry holding a Light Grenade shell. It was a kind of kamikaze suicide attempt, but you're okay. That's a good thing, since you're the one who started the revolution. It's good to have you back." Anon nodded, hearing Radia's voice echoing throughout the repaired and clean streets of Jetrona. Hundreds of ISOs were gathered in front of a podium where Radia spoke.

"She disapproves of an armed rebellion, but it's too late for peaceful negotiations with CLU," Tron said, shaking his head, "Nonetheless, she authorized the use of an army. We have exactly one hundred Basics in the Rebellion, most of them from Tron City. She's designated you and me as the Commanders-in-chief, and the Light Guard as our personal Special Operations squadron. Of course, they declined, only obeying orders from us. Not your fault, or mine. It was the only algorithm that was we only able to bend towards _our_ leadership." Anon nodded his head at the ISO leader speaking against the forces used against the Occupation.

"Tron, if we may," Hax said, Tron stepping to the side of the balcony so that the Light Guard could join them. "Radia's personally installed herself as the political leader of the Rebellion. She wants us to stop fighting, and for us to just leave alone the population. Otherwise, the Occupation will harm the other Basics." Anon shook his head in a way that said, '_It's too late for that. The Grid is at war. We can't turn back now.'_

"I know," Pyro sympathized, "But Radia has basically thrown Guile out of place, after we heard that CLU's top soldier took over Argon in place of Tesler."

"So we need to defy Radia," Tron said, pointing to his Light Guard, "We're going to bide our time and wait until more Basics come to Jetrona to fight in this war. In the meantime, the leading fighters of the Armed Forces have been given Expert- Class privileges in Light Cycle, Light Jet and Light Tank operation." A sign of obedient appluase signaled the conclusion of Radia's speech, as she nimbly glided off of the podium.

'_So this is how factions start_,' Tron thought, walking back into the apartment, '_With influential control and minor applause._'

* * *

_20 Cycles later..._

"What's our next move?" Japter questioned,sitting in the planning room that was included in their quarters, "Because the Rebellion has grown strong enough that we need to stop attacking convoys, and make a show of strength. Something that shows that we can oppose CLU, and recruit more Basics." Tron nodded in mild approval.

"But remember, CLU has thousands of Sentries at his command," Hax said, "We need to plan a strategy before anything comes to fruitful blossoming."

"Getting a bit poetic now?" Sivet joked, "Or are you beginning to take ISO philosophy classes?"

"He has a point," Tron said, taking a large sip from a glass of energy, "We can't just go rushing in and derezzing sentries to and fro. We need somebody who can give us a full layout of a city before something occurs. I know Tron City by heart, but that will be the hardest city on Grid to capture, since CLU's forces originate from there. Argon is the closest and least populated metropolis, but we have no knowledge of the landscape..."

"What are you all talking about?" A sharp and meticulous voice barked. All eight rebels froze as Radia strode into their quarters, "I heard that you were talking about taking down Occupation control in Argon, without authorization." The fury in her voice stung more than the glare of her bluish-green eyes. Everybody flinched backwards as three ISO Evo Troopers appeared behind her.

"I actually come with a message," Radia said, gesturing for her Evo Troopers to stand down, "Two programs come from Argon City to join the Rebellion. One of them is an ex-commander from General Tesler's army. The other... was the apprentice of your double." Tron stood up in shock, gesturing for the others to follow him. The elevator was a glass one, allowing the occupants a view of the semi- repaired city. They kept many buildings this way, so that nobody would suspect that their rebellion was inhabiting the ruins of the city.

Two programs waited at the bottom of the building that housed the leading ISOs. One was a female, brown hair covering one side of her face, but held white circuits over her body, that were once orange from the Occupation's grasp. The other was a male, slightly taller than the female, with a firm and rigid body, canceled out by the comforting gaze held by his eyes. The male walked over and shook Tron's hand.

"You sent a copy, to train some random program to make an Uprising," Beck said, Tron grimacing in shame, "I can respect that. No program can be in two places at once. I'm Beck, and this is my friend Paige. We're here to join your rebellion, and we can help you take back Argon."

"Thank you," Tron said, letting go of the Renegade's hand, "As you probably can tell, I'm Tron 1.0, and this is my partner, Anonymous, but we call him Anon. This is our Special Forces team, the Light Guard." Stepping back, Tron and Anon allowed the Light Guard to step forward, Hax holding out his hand to shake Beck's. Beck slowly accepted the hand, with reluctance in his posture. "Don't worry. We took extra measure to make sure that the Light Guard can't be re-refactored. They don't bite."

"Well, any friend of Tron is a friend of ours," Beck said, "So, when do we start fighting?" Tron grinned and held out a baton.

"Ever used a Light Jet before?"

* * *

"So the plan is for Riot and Sivet to distract Dyson's forces with Light Jets and their circuitry, while everybody else goes into the city, derezzing any Sentry in our path?" Beck questioned, to which Tron replied with a hearty nod, "Then, once we're inside, we plant explosives in the main reactor, and make sure Dyson doesn't escape before everything goes boom?" Another nod. Beck shrugged in mild diagnosis of the plan, hinting that he enjoyed using explosives.

"If you two like it, we already decided that we like the strategy, so we can execute it in two cycles, after collecting the Wing Chutes and explosives needed to carry out the plan." Paige nodded, but said a mild objection.

"If we blow up Dyson's command ship, what would happen to Argon?" Anon rolled his eyes behind the helmet for dramatic effect, to which Tron laughed.

"Simple. We free Argon, rebuild it, and recruit as many programs to the Rebellion as possible. I've heard Argon has some fighters." Tron grinned at Hax's words, and turned back to the hologram of Argon. "I say we split into teams of two. Pyro and I will go straight through Argon Square, while Japter and Flad take the Coastal Run. Paige and Beck will take the highway system, and Tron and Anon will go around the city and through the back airlock of Dyson's command vessel."

"For once... I agree with your plan." Hax's explanation was interrupted quite unheeded as Radia glided into the room, escorted by four ISO Evo Troopers. "This is a way to dramatically increase our numbers. Please, take care of yourselves." Tron's furrowed eyebrows turned into a look of remorse as Radia and her Evo Troopers exited their quarters.

"Anybody have objections?" Pyro questioned, breaking the awkward silence in the air, "Because I sure don't. Anybody against the plan, raise your hand." Not a single program raised their hand. "Awesome. Alright, dismissed. If you have anything needed before you leave for your route, now's the time to do it." As the Light Guard began grabbing a pitcher of energy and pouring it on the helmets, the energy soaking in, Beck and Paige walked away into the hallway, which lead to their quarters. Anon just sat, using the ID Disc Station to upgrade his Disk mods, Tron walked away to the elevator. He needed to talk with someone. In truth, he needed to talk to Radia.

* * *

A/N: So I did some planning and named the final two chapters, out of twelve. They willed be called "The End of Everything" and "End of Line". The story will end with Tron/Rinzler falling into the Sea of Simulation. The sequel, which I have dubbed Tron: Redemption, Tron and Anon lead the Rebellion in one last blow to Tron City.

Next: Tron and Radia think over their feelings for each other, and the Battle of Argon City takes place.


	7. Chapter 7: Pushing the Limits

Chapter 7: Pushing the Limits

Tron's circuitry gleamed against the darkness of the hallway, several floors below his quarters, where Radia and her advisors keep residence. He had not felt this awkward since the day he came on Grid, in TC01, when he left Yori. There had been no real spark, just hanging out together on what Yori referred to as "dates". But to Tron, they were just attempts to get together that were fruitless.

But with Radia, everything was different. There was a spark, but there could never the fire, burning brightly in their virtual hearts. She was a political leader, and he was a commander of an armed Rebellion. He just wished she would see his side of the fight. Nothing would work in politics. This was the point of no return. CLU was willing to send programs to the Game Grids just for helping each other. Beck was a good fighter, able to escape the onslaught of the Game Grids in Argon with every limb still on his body. Anon was able to wipe the floor with every competitor in the Game Grids, only to escape with the Bostrumite, Gibson.

Every city that held no strategic value, held ISOs, or CLU held little interest in was pummeled to ground zero with Light Tanks or Recognizers. CLU was a terrorist, supposedly saving the programs with his campaigns, but was destroying everything they held dear right under their gullible noses. But Tron was not gullible. He never was. He was going to make sure Radia had no tricks or lies up her sleeves. But there was an ulterior objective: to see if Radia had stray feelings for him. To see if he could put those feelings together, into one big piece.

Surprisingly, he saw Radia walking alone in the dimly lit hallway. No ISO Evo Troopers, no security guards, just Radia and him. Tron waved and walked over to the ISO leader.

"Hey, Radia," Tron said sheepishly, his feet brushing against the soft velvet carpet that encased the floor. "I was wondering..." His sentence was cut short by the utterly cued entrance of five- not three, not four, but _five_- ISO Evo Troopers. Seemed like security was tightening. Pretty soon, there would probably by hundreds of ISO Evo Troopers pointing guns at whoever went near their political leader. Tron stuttered his last few words "... if it was okay for my strike team to take a hit on Argon now. I'll take the Evo Troopers as a yes. Gotta go, bye!" Tron sprinted out of the hallway, into the lift that would take him to the bottom of the building.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Tron muttered, banging his head on the wall of the elevator as it stopped to deliver him at their room. "How could I not see through that?! Wherever there's Radia, there's always at least one Evo Trooper." Walking out, the Light Guard helped Tron and Anon strap on Wing Chutes, to which Tron tuned and spoke.

"I want to tell you that we've been through so much together," the System Monitor lamented, "And this may very well be our last cycle together. If nothing goes right, any one of us could be captured." Holding out his hand, the Light Guards placed their disks into his hand. Tron took the Recoder that Beck loaned him, scraping together the circuitry on their ID disks.

"This is the greatest milestone the Rebellion has taken so far," Tron said, handing the Light Guard back their ID discs. A flicker went into their eyes, the code remaining the same, a "T" in four squares in the same place as their leader. The Light Guard stared from Tron to their circuitry, then back at Tron."If I don't make it, I want to say I'm so proud of you."

* * *

"Sir," A Sentry called from a control panel, "Two Black Guard have been spotted flying in Light Jets." Dyson strolled over, grabbing the Sentry by his neck.

"So?" Dyson seemed unfazed by the appearance of the infamous Black Guard. At CLU's command, more Black Guard were created, up to ninety for his newest project. This would only be temporary, and the extras would be derezzed."We see Black Guard all the time. What's so different about these?" The Black Guard gulped, then pulled up a feed of the Guard.

"These Guards... have white lines..." the Sentry whimpered. Dyson, in a rage, grabbed the Sentry's disk and slammed it into the back of the Sentry. Orange pixels scattered everywhere, another mook Sentry taking his place.

"Send five recognizers to deal with those things," Dyson snarled, "If they fail, I want them as far away from the ship as possible. CLU's pet project is located on this ship, and if they reach it before the repurposing is complete..." Dyson walked off, arms flaunting behind his hands, with the Sentry's disk still in his clutches, to find the items necessary to combat the rebelling Black Guards.

* * *

"I think we got their attention!" Flad shouted over the howling of their Light Jet engines, liquid energy smashing into their helmets. The moisture in the air was affecting visibility, but the laser wiper that Tron installed was making things much easier. Five recognizers were activating their engines, pushing themselves against the force of gravity. And apparently had speed boosts equipped, if one noted the increased boost of their engines.

"I noticed!" Japter laughed, "We'll pull them down the coastal run. Light Cycles, now!" The two Light Guards rezzed into their batons, then pulled out a different one to activate their Light Cycles. The Wing Chutes on their backs softened the fall, but not by much. Flad's baton clicked, but no Light Cycle emanated.

"Users, this is bad!" Flad yelped, Japter watching as the baton failed to operate, "I think my baton is jammed." Japter's helmeted face jerked in shock, the Wing Chute the only thing keeping alive the partner Light Guard. Japter's 5th Generation Light Cycle rezzed out, Flad grabbing on Japter's back.

"Got it!" Flad chirped, "I'm jumping!" Activating his own Light Cycle, the two white- circuited bikes speeding down the deserted coastline. Recognizer engines slowly grew loudes, until Flad's Light Ribbon cut the engines off. Crashing into another of it's kind, the Recognizer's body exploded, sending the two legs into the Sea of Simulation. Instead of attempting what their compaions had failed, the three remaining VTOL craft began firing reticle blasts. Using what Tron taught them, the two shoved their Light Cycles into their batons as they neared a small alleyway.

The recognizer pilots didn't care... at least until they smashed into the wall. It was like a Recognizer sandwich, the first Recognizer crushed by the others. Flad and Japter hid in a tight corridor as a clump of Recognizer parts flew past them.

"Tron!" Flad shouted, joy overcoming his ability to stay calm, "You and the others are clear!"

The battle of Argon had begun.

* * *

"Just got the word from Flad," Tron said, his helmet covering his defiant face, "Dyson's let his guard down. Move out." Pulling out their Light Cycles, the two sped their Light Cycles around the massive command ship to an airlock near the engine vents. The engines were still running, fuel fumes burning their radiation. Anon felt that they were hot enough to sear the Light Suit and skin off of a program's skin, judging by the way his helmeted face looked towards the engines in anxiety.

"I don't like the idea either," Tron said, helping Anon through the engines and to the airlocks. "It's the only way to avoid Dyson. According to Beck, every time he came in the hangar, an alarm sounds. Hundreds of guards would come after us. If we use this airlock, Dyson would only think that it's a glitch in the computer system. We'll have to wait for the others to bring the explosives..."

"Tron! Anon!" a feminine voice shouted from the distance. Beck and Paige's Light Cycles disintegrated into code, allowing them to place their batons on their belts.

"We have to get in there!" Beck hissed, pulled by Tron and Anon into the airlock, helping Paige up as well, "We were chased by a group of Sentries, and they almost caught up with us. Thanks for the lift." As if right on cue, the squadron of Sentries drove into the engines, not taking the time to notice that their quarry had escaped into an airlock just meters away from their dereolution point.

"Pavel's guarding a room," Paige growled, pulling out her disc. "I need to find him. He owes me, big time." Beck nodded, the two running off, through her old home. Tron and Anon took off in the other direction. To find out just what Dyson was doing.

* * *

Paige's mind was overloaded with scenarios. How Pavel was going to react. Shocked? Pleased? Who knew, now that they were on two completely different sides at this point. Beck's tron suit was only coated in white circuitry, the original Light Suit of his Uprising.

"You okay?" Beck asked, his hands occupied with slicing the door controls. "You seem on edge. Just checking?" Paige nudged him aside, raising her fist. The two front knuckles smashed through the panel, sparks flying as she twisted her wrist. The wires pulled out sparked a reaction, probably the controls to the lock.

"Just cooling up now," Paige sighed, drawing her Disk. "Could be anybody behind that door. The Black Guard, Dyson... even Pavel." Walking in, the door slid open to reveal...

"Hello, Paige," Pavel slyly purred.

* * *

"Are you sure that this is the right way to the main reactor?" Tron said, his eyebrows glaring at his friend. Anon shrugged in unknowing. "Oh. Right. First time in this thing. Weren't Beck and Paige the only programs aboard this ship before now?" This time, his companion shook his head in compliance. A massive, hulking door stood in their way. Anon nudged Tron aside, slamming his disc into the door's hinge. A loud snap came from the side of the door as the lock sliced in half from Anon's disk. Pushing the door open, Tron gasped in horror, Anon, presumably at least, with him.

A disc with Tron's data code sat in a pool of energy. In fact, it could've been described as Tron himself. The weird thing... was that it's circular lights were orange. Another minute or so passed before Tron could finally move from sheer shock.

"Why is my disc... doing in Dyson's command ship?" Tron thought aloud. Another second passed before Anon's body pulsed through electric energy. Red sparks moved through the Monitor's code, sending him into a state of unconcious. Tron drew his disc, before a dart dug into the side of his neck. Pulling it out, Tron looked at the syringe's label: Repurposing code. His eyes shrank. Dilated until there was a speck of iris remaining. Everything went dark. Anon was on the floor, helpless. And here was Tron, ready to be disposed of.

Everything was coming to an end.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, cliffhanger. There was a shortage of ideas, so I went with Dyson sneaking up the two most powerful programs on Grid. If you have any questions regarding the plot, characters, or anything in the story, please don't be afraid to PM me about it. I'll respond as fast as I can type.

Next: Tron meets his "Destiny", and the plan to free Argon becomes a desperate attempt to escape with the programs inhabiting the ruins. Mara and Zed learn the truth of what happened to their friend.


	8. Chapter 8: Raise Your Disk

Chapter 8: Raise Your Disk

The light was coming back. Everything was orange, even the liquid energy surrounding his stationed body. His circuits were the same color. Their blinding, hopeful, white shade. At least one thing was right. Error messages began flashing, blinding him from true reality. He hoped Anon was okay. Beck and Paige, they were trapped. The Light Guard was walking into a trap. The error messages were everywhere, everywhere on his HUD. One more message could probably shut him down at that point.

"Ah, you're awake," a high-pitched, oily voice scraped. A Black Guard came into view. His helmet covered up his face, the same as his familiar Light Guard. Only his circuits were bright orange. Like everything that made up CLU's regime.

"You wouldn't believe the lengths we went to so that we could get you while your rebellion was fighting for your lives. Don't worry. They're safe and sound in a prison cell. They'll be properly energized, treated like a program living in a free metropolis. But only if you cooperate." Tron's eyes darted so that they could meet Dyson's, which were ripe from the helmet.

"I realize that you might not want to serve CLU," Dyson sympathized. "I can respect that. You were programmed to fight for the Users. For Flynn. But Flynn kept the ISOs, perverted the Grid. There are more caring Users out there, I know that." Tron closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. The thought of Flynn's dream vanishing was unbearable. Twisting, Tron felt a searing pain on his ID disk dock. Dyson had practically ripped his disc off, trying to make a copy of his enemy.

"I was too late to salvage what was left of your copy," Dyson lamented, pressing the duplication switch on Tron's ID Disk, watching a second Tron form in the vial tube next to him, "So, I'm making another. I'll let you and your friends go, and leave Argon City, on the condition that I am allowed to keep your copy to serve CLU." Tron smirked, pretending to be in rage by gritting his teeth more than usual. What he didn't know was that Tron 2.0, the original copy and this one, were incomplete versions of the real Tron. It was a failsafe installed by Tron, to make sure nobody got hold of the original strategies, or the location of the Rebellion. Dyson, however, was oblivious.

"There we go," Dyson's oily voice purred, making the finishing touches to Tron's disk. "You're free." Tron's eyes, bloodshot from exhaustion, bulged in shock as orange Occupation code seeped through him. It was all a trick. The copy Tron, a hologram. Dyson laughed maniacally as Tron's transformation became clear.

Tron was gone. Rinzler was born.

* * *

A pipe snapped as Pavel's ID disc sliced through the cold, rusted metal. Beck's shoulder avoided getting sliced in half by the disc as Paige swung her fist at Pavel's head. The second- in- command ducked, but consequently took a smash to the abdomen by Beck's elbow. Grunting in pain, Pavel's eyes flashed an alarming red.

"He's got the Upgrade!" Paige shouted over Pavel's roar of fury. "I'll distract him. Get the weapon off of his disc!" Before Beck could move a muscle, a disk went by his head, barely missing the Renegade's body. It gouged into the wall, into a crack thin enough to hold the disc in place. Pavel rushed in for the kill, in a mad and sadistic manner. It wasn't just corrupting him. It was driving him insane. Before something could happen, Beck pulled his arch- enemy's disk out of the hole and stabbed him in the stomach. A loud, distorted scream echoed through the room as Pavel's face shattered into orange pixels, followed quickly by the rest of his body. Eventually, the floor was covered in Pavel's remains. Paige stared at Beck, then grabbed his neck and pushed his lips onto hers. It was their second kiss, and the most passionate. Paige's side was like a flu, both hot and cold, a struggling war between the two. Beck's lips were a passionate flame, licking at the sensation.

"Beck!" Hax's voice caused Beck to start, as he pulled away to see the entire Light Guard raced through the corridor. "You and Paige might want to start running!" Right on cue, an orange disc flew out and struck Pyro's Disk, which was acting as a buckler shield. The owner...

"Tron!" Beck shouted in horror. Tron's circuitry remained the same, minus the tinted orange. A low, toned growl emanated from the helmet that surrounded his cranium. Two disks hung from his hands. One of them was Dyson's disk, several microscopic pixels still scattered on it's surface. "What did they?..." Another flying disk cut Beck's voice off, as it streaked past him at lightning speed.

"We need to find Anon!" Sivet shouted over the deresolution of several sentries in Tron, or Rinzler's way, "He wasn't with Tron, and records from a computer server show that Anon is in the ship's prison sector. Dyson's troops recently delivered him there." Riot's head jerked sideways to dodge both disks flying at his right side, then turning to throw a taser at the ground. The landmine worked. Rinzler stepped on it, electricity coursing though his body. It would buy them time and distance, but not much. Riot's baton pulled open, activating his gun. The laser bullets sprayed out, creating a large gap in the hallway.

"STOP!" Rinzler's voice shook the hallway, "I'm still Tron." Riot's bullets ceased to exert from the magazine. Rinzler grabbed the tazer, crunching it between his fingers. "I was able to kill Dyson before the repurposing could finish. His forces think that you killed Dyson, and they consider you a threat. As of now, they also believe that I am higher ranking than every soldier on Grid." Gesturing to his teammates, Rinzler lead them down a corridor. Prison cells were on every side of the corridor, laser walls the only thing between the programs inside and freedom.

"Anon," Rinzler whispered, Anon jerking and sitting up. Rinzler typed in a code sequence, the laser wall deactivating. Rinzler turned around. "Hax, can you carry him?" Hax nodded, picking up Anon by the waist and slinging him over his shoulder. "I'm going to go into service with CLU. I'll leak as much intel as possible to you. I've contacted a friend from the Game Grids. He's a game bot with considerable skill in Light Cycle, Light Jet, Recognizer and Light Tank operation. He'll be joining you later. Good luck." Hugging his former teammates, Tron, now known as Rinzler, drew his helmet forward and walked away.

* * *

The Light Cycle that held Beck sped through the deserted streets of Argon. Signs provided ramps to jump onto the rooftops of the route to the ruins of Able's garage. His grandfather figure had perished in a bombing by Cyrus, his predecessor as the Renegade. Nothing was as it seemed. Tron was gone. Able was gone. Tesler was gone. It was all so different. All that was left was a handful of programs, feeding off of a small energy supply, piped from the Outlands.

The Light Cycle made a screeching sound as it slid into the garage's hangar door. Several programs, probably on duty, woke at the sound. One of them was Zed. Waking up, the teal circuitry that joined his white circuitry flared in excitement.

"Everybody!" Zed shouted, loud enough for the entire city to hear, "The Renegade! He's here!" Instantly, hundreds of garage workers began flooding out of places Beck didn't even knew existed. Then again, it had been a long time since he'd last seen the interior of his home. Zed and Mara, seemingly the leader of the rouge group of programs, walked up to Tron.

"I can't believe you're here!" Mara yipped in a complete fit of giddiness, "Why did you come to us?" Beck sighed, then turned around to point his hand at the burning wreckage of Dyson's command ship, an orange Light Ribbon flying of it. Tron's secondary side was leaving to do more good than ever before. Now it was his turn to do something big for his fight too.

"That, programs, is the climax of the Argon Uprising. But I have found another Revolution, and I want you to join me." The helmet pulled away to allow Beck to show his public face. "Because it's something Tron would do." All of the programs stared, unison in the whole situation in front of them. Beck's mind raced at the stupidity loft his actions, his hard work unraveling in just a few nanocycles. The reactions were invisible, shrouded by every silence that occurred. Finally, after what seemed like twenty cycles, a program turned to his side. One that was completely unexpected, the one that he took so many things from. His freedom, his custom Light Cycle, his job, and Zed was siding with him? Made zero sense, but the bigger the group the better.

"Beck..." Zed was speechless, walking over to his side. "I'm sorry I was against you for so long. But now, I can understand why you'd want to take the fight to CLU. I'm in." All of the other programs, ones that had been trained in vehicle maintenance, shook Beck's hand and clapped his exhausted shoulders.

"Now, listen carefully," Beck instructed, the Light Guard joining him. "You are about to enter a city full of ISOs. They are extremely wary of Basics, so do not, I repeat do not, harass them under any circumstances, or Tron's old accomplice will find you." All of the programs, at least a hundred, boarded their Light Cycles, heading towards the glittering city of Jetrona, and farther away from the ruins they once called home.

* * *

"Anybody know when that guy Tron mentioned is coming?" was the only thing that the Light Guard had been thinking about for the last cycle. Tron was gone, with only the speechless Anon to lead. Not that he was a bad leader, but everybody still missed their other commander.

"He's here!" Hax shouted, watching over the balcony of their apartment as an antique 3rd Generation Light Cycle sped from the Outlands.

Beta, champion of the first Game Grid tournament, was now a fighter in the Rebellion. To take Tron's missing gap. To take back what was rightfully theirs.

* * *

Digital rain pelted the HUD of Rinzler's helmet. The Light Jet was flying at a surprisingly pleasing pace, considerung all the bad physics taking place. Everything was going according to the Rebellion's plan. His repurposing, Beta's summoning, everything was planned out. For the Revolution, against CLU's knowledge. They had perfected the process from when Dyson had last mentioned it. Gave him too much freedom, allowed him to frolic outside of CLU's control. Tron City was where CLU was. That was his target, to serve CLU as a spy for his and Anon's revolution. As far as his Rinzler side was concerned, perfection was all that mattered. But that side was irrelevant, small compared to Tron's side. The side that was a System Monitor. One that fought for freedom.

The side that fought for the Users.

* * *

A/N: There you have it, programs. Don't worry, this isn't the end of the line yet (10 points for the viewers who get the reference). There's still four more chapter left to go. Chapter 12 will be hopefully much longer, but this chapter ends the second third of the story and sets the stage for Legacy. You might only recognize Beta if you played the PSP version of Tron: Evolution. Decided to mix two stories that have no resemblance and place them together. Oh, wait, already did that.

Next: We explore the political side of the Rebellion, and Tron begins to leak as much information to Anon and the Light Guard as possible. CLU begins the construction of his carrier ship, _Rectifier._


	9. Chapter 9: Hidden in Shadows

Chapter 9: Hidden in Shadows

It all felt good. The power that Radia held over an entire public rebellion. It was intoxicating. And it had corrupted her. The former ISO leader, once compassionate and wise, had become just what CLU was: A twisted embodiment of her original self.

She was secretly sympathetic with the Armed Forces, and had even commissioned the use of several Light Tanks to be built by a large group of Basic mechanics. Freed from their disgusting hovel by the one true fighter, Beck and his girlfriend Paige. But for now, all that mattered was collecting enough followers to overthrow CLU's regime. And she had succeeded. Partially.

There were eight programs that stood in the way of Radia's mirror rule of CLU: Tron, Anon, and the Light Guard. Individuals of the six Light Guard were Riot, Sivet, Hax, Pyro, Flad and Japter. Refactored versions of the deadly Black Guard, they only obeyed commands from Tron and Anon. This was a large dent in her plan to conquer the Grid. But now, one of them was gone. Tron had left the Rebellion to join CLU, althewhile gathering information to smuggle into Rebellion computers. Sadly, another program took the gaping hole in the ranks that Tron had left. Beta, the first champion in the Game Grid tournaments.

She was determined to start waging war with CLU's larger, but less strategic regime. The Sentries in his command were a hive mind, unlike the original Sentries that were used in TC301's coup d'etat of Flynn. Only bent on serving CLU and enforcing his regime in a way that she could never imagine. But she was maniacal. More crazed than CLU, underneath the smooth skin and calm demeanor. She was paranoid that Anon, Beta, and the Light Guard would perform their own coup d'etat. Take her place and take the Grid back by strategic force.

She was afraid...

* * *

"...That everything we've worked so hard for has been toppled by Tron's departure," Sivet said, watching a hologram of Jetrona, "She believes we're in the Boonies now, since Gallium and Argon are dead in strategy. The terrain is too rough for Troop deployment, and though Light Tanks can only use long range, their Arrows can't reach the barriers of Jetrona. We're in a perfectly good position for strategic purposes, but she wants us to take a suicide jump and go right up to CLU's nose."

"We already have Tron in that position, don't we?" Beta said, upgrading his disk with Anon's assistance at their Disk station, "What more could Radia want?"

"She's gotten paranoid," Hax sighed, climbing off his treadmill, "She thinks we're going to pull a coup d'etat against her. There has to be some way to convince her that we're not going to overthrow her government."

"How about we pretend to overthrow her?" Pyro asked in a malevolent tone, "She's turning the Revolution into a living dictatorship from the inside. We have to get her some help. Think of it as reverse psychology."

"Right," Riot said, handing staffs, Katanas and Grenades to the other Light Guards. "A feigned Coup d'etat it is. Next cycle."

* * *

"Come on," said Tron, recoder in the hard drive. "This Recoder better pack it's punch." CLU's master files were all in this one computer, including yet another passion project going on in the Outlands. Unfortunately, the computer was password- protected, and only CLU and the recently derezzed Dyson knew the complicated coding. Luck struck again when Tron realized that he still held Beck's old recoder.

Files poured out of the computer, with Tron stopping on a blueprint of a giant battleship. It was a conduit to CLU's command ship, allowing a Disk to be docked in the command center. Another hologram came out of the Command Ship. Of Flynn's ID Disk.

"No way..." Tron said, inserting the data duplicate into a flash drive, "This has to get to the Rebellion." Opening his disc, the data zipped into the code link. To Anon and Beta, the Light Guard, the Revolution.

"Rinzler!" CLU shouted down the hallway, "There are some rogue programs downtown that I need you to take care of." Tron, still feigining loyalty to the dictator a.k.a. System Administrator, walked out of the hallway, with two of the Black Guard walking behind him.

* * *

"False Coup's on hold," Beta said, all ten Rebels surrounding him, "Just got word from Tron. CLU's building a massive warship in the Outlands. Apparently can dock with his Throneship, and Flynn's ID Disk can sync with the warship."

"So it's basically the Regulator all over again?" Sivet jeered, "Come on, we have a plan. Get Anon inside, have him blow up the Master Induction Propulsion Core, and run like hell until he escapes." Sivet looked at Anon's helmeted face glare at him. The look basically said, '_Don't mention that again or I will rip your lungs out of your chest_.' Sivet's own helmet bounced back and looked away sheepishly.

"Tron also sent word that CLU has sent General Shadow and fifteen warships similar to Tesler's burning Command Ship. Heading towards Argon, but they can't land there. Probably to level out any programs still inhabiting the city." The Light Guard, Anon, Beck and Paige all stared solemnly, Beta continuing. "I've rounded up volunteers for aerial combat. Twenty-two ISO Evo Troopers have pledged their allegiance, and to help us stage the coup d'etat afterwards."

"Tron always did hate Radia's ISO Evo Troopers," Paige said, "I can see why he'd hate her personal guard. They keep anybody from communicating with her. Maybe on her orders."

"Tron left me specific instruction to train the programs that I rescued from Argon and our fresh reccruits," Beck piped up. Everybody stared at him, having been completely unaware of these revelations until now. "I've had Radia commission the construction of our own non-deresolution Game Grids. It's to train every program that isn't combat-ready."

"Fine by me," Pyro said, "Anybody disagree?" Nobody dared to make a move. Anon stood up, gesturing for his team to follow him to ther first major campaign.

* * *

Light Jet engines, from the newest generation, roared through the bleek and desolate sky of Argon City. As Beta said earlier, fifteen _Regulator_-like warships filled the air. Reticle blasts pummeled down on Argon, programs screaming. Anon's helmeted face pressed against the dashboard of the Light Jet, his custom engines pushed to the limits.

Hax nodded, gesturing to take four Rebel Light Jets across the bow of the nearest cruiser. Laser pounded out of the machine guns mounted on their sides, taking out the turbolasers on the bow. Hax tuned his thumb up as Anon streaked acrosss the metal hull of the warship, firing a missile into the bridge. Sentry bodies and pixels were sucked into the air's vacuum, lifeless as the sky around them. Another missile, from Beta's Light Jet, went straight into the Master Induction Propulsion Core. Liquid energy splattered as the Regulator- class warship exploded in midair. Hundreds of synchonized screams filled the air as the ship imploded.

"Anon!" Paige shouted over the comlink, "They're sending out Recognizers!" The seventeen VTOLs flew out of the hangar of the rear cruiser. The Flagship, crawling with hundreds of Recognizers, ready to deal some serious blows to the oppressor.

"Head towards the rear of the fleet!" Japter called to four Evo Troopers. "They'll be forced to retreat without a strategic commander." Ten Light Jets blasted through the propulsion core of two cruisers, barely getting the exploding corridors without singing their engines. Smoke billowed out of Beck's Light Jet, jumping onto Paige's Light Jet just five feet from him. The abandoned Light Jet barrel-rolled into the hangar of the nearest cruiser, a blue orb of fire blasting out of the Recognizer- filled hangar. Light Ribbons activated, Beck and Anon jumped off their respective Light Jets and into the airlock of a Recognizer. The Recognizer's circuits flickered from orange to white the second the Sentries piloting the ship were thrown out of the window, yelping in fear of making an orange splat.

"Sorry, General Shadow," Paige growled, throwing a grenade into the cockpit of a Recognizer. A blast of light poured from the glass cockpit, the helmets of the Rebellion watching the light show.

"Fire all of your missiles at the Bomb Didtribution Core!" Hax shouted, "It'll make nice firework implosion!" The trails of fifty Light Missiles left a hazy aura as they streaked through the side of the ship. A large explosion of orange energy, along with Recognizer bomb shells and tank cannons.

The day was theirs.

* * *

General Shadow stood in horror as the missiles slammed into the hull of _Invincible_. He knew there was no chance of getting off alive. Better die with his strategies and knowledge than let a ragtag rebellion get hold of CLU's plans.

"Sir!" His lieutenant shouted over the wail of alarms and grinding metal, "The ship's coming apart! We need to get you to safety!" Shadow looked towards his aide and shook his head. A man of his word, stuck with his decision. Never let go of his choice.

His aide never understood his decision, even as the bridge burst into flames and scrap metal around him.

* * *

"Score ten for the Rebellion!" Hax cheered, raising his glass of energy. Everybody in the room, minus the muted Anon, cheered in unison and clanged their glasses against each other. It was indeed a momenteous occasion for the Rebels. In a matter of an hour, they had singlehandedly destroyed fifteen _Regulator_- class warships in fragile Light Jets. On top of that, they managed to capture a Regulator, dubbing it _Indomitable_. A large airfleet, one that CLU had, could probably dominate the fleet that CLU already had.

"Now, onto the false coup d'etat," Pyro chuckled, "We have the brute force to take the power from Radia, but we need the people's support."

"I say we tell them that she's mentally suffering," Beck suggested, shrugging in chance, "That'll convince the population that she needs to step down from her position. Besides, look how far the Military has gotten since Tron and Anon started the Rebellion."

"I second," Sivet piped up, "And I think that a new name is in order. Like, oh, I don't know, the Coalition of Independent Programs." There was much positve reaction from the crowd in front as everyone seconded the motion.

"Good," Beta said, "The false coup is tomorrow." A message flashed on Anon's ID Disk. It's owner activated it to find a hologram of Tron.

"Tron!" Hax shouted, racing over to Anon, "How've you been?! We miss you!"

"I'm fine, Hax," Tron growled, "I don't have much time. I need to tell you that the I/O Portal is open again. The Users have returned." Everybody in the room looked at the other with genuine concern. "I have to remain hostile. This is another User who could help us."

"We've heard of a program with your description killing fugitive ISOs," Paige said, tears welling up. "Is that true?"

Tron sighed. "Sadly, it is me. To retain loyalty to CLU, I've had to kill small factions of ISOs. But your Rebel ISOs aren't anywhere close to my blacklist. I will redeem myself. To myself, you and the Revolution. I promise." With that, the hologram shut off. Paige began spilling tears, Beck helping her up and walking to their quarters, Anon sitting down to think to himself.

Next cycle, nothing would be the same. A new User, millions of derezzed ISOs, Tron repurposed. What could possibly go wrong?

Everything.

* * *

A/N: As author of Tron: Aftermath, it is my pleasure to announce that we have hit over 1,000 views. I never expected this fanfic to get so popular in the Tron community, so I thank you all who have read this. In exchange for your loyal support, Tron: Aftermath will have at least two more chapters instead of the original twelve. Redemption, if you are asking, is how Tron will be reunited with his friends to take back the Grid, and how Tron will redeem himself in the eyes of the ISOs who have died through CLU's rule. Once again, you all have my greatest thanks.

Next: Anon and the Light Guard travel to Tron City's Game Grids, where they witness the User Sam Flynn begin his Disk War match with Tron, aka Rinzler.


	10. Chapter 10: Not a Game Anymore

Chapter 10: Not a Game Anymore

Radia watched as ten Basic cadets, fresh into the barriers of Jetrona, practiced their incompetent Light Cycle and ID Disk skills on the Game Grid replica built by Beck and Paige. It was satisfying to see that the Rebellion could do at least something right. The Light Ribbon intertwined with the other, crating a digital quilt that would fade in the wake of the program's mock deresolution.

The hum of a Light Staff snapped her out of her peaceful trance. Turning around, she saw that Anon was knocking over two of her most prominent Evo Troopers. The Light Guard, along with twenty Evo Troopers taking out her once- active guardsmen. Radia's teeth smashed against each other, her eyes flashing a dangerous red. Drawing her ID Disk, she rushed forward with superhuman speed and derezzed one of her own ISO companions. From the rubble of what was once her ISO friend, she drew the baton that rezzed into her signature weapon, the one that she had practiced with for hundreds of cycles.

"Get down!" Anon shouted at the top of his lungs. The feeling felt amazing to finally have repaired vocal cords. He needed to thank Paige later for her medical expertise. "She's got a Light Staff!" The group of thirty programs split in half as Radia smashed her staff into the ground. Marble pieces flew into the air, Anon's ID Disk took the brunt of Radia's staff. The tip dug into the marble floor, jamming the staff and preventing Radia from using it anymore.

"She has a copy of Pavel's power upgrade!" Paige shouted, glaring into Radia's blood-red eyes. "She's been wearing it for way too long! If she keeps it up, she'll derezz from the sheer strain of the weapon!" Radia's code began flashing, a side effect that proved Paige's theory. Everything that was her was deteriorating.

"Hold her down and let me get the power upgrade off!" Beck and Hax complied, grabbing Radia's arms and pinning her front to the wall of the room. Anon's hand went for her Disk, but a searing pain went to his hands. Electrical static shocked his hand, making his arm go numb.

"It's gotten used for too long!" Beta said, helping Anon up from the shock, "We have to derezz her!" Anon shook his head and threw his Disk at her back dock. Radia gasped as her Disk fell off of her back. Pyro grabbed it, ripping the weapon off the Disk. Shoving a grenade into the center of the Power Ring, Riot threw the corruptor like an ID Disk. It exploded in mid-air, creating a beautiful display of yellow and orange destruction.

Radia shrieked at the destruction of her drug-like substance, before slipping unconscious. Hax handed her limp form to two Evo Troopers, gesturing for them to take her to the brig.

"Tron is in.. well, Tron City," Anon said, collecting up pieces of marble, "Hax, you're in command until I get out." Hax's helmet bore in Anon's own helmet, shocked at what his leader was saying.

"What are you talking about?" Pyro stammered, "Why are you leaving?"

"I'm going to extract Tron, if CLU hasn't repurposed him yet," Anon explained, "I'm going to edit my circuitry on the Solar Sailer to Tron City, and help Tron before something bad happens. Like Tron said, you guys have made me so proud." Hax gave Anon a hug, all of the Light Guard grouping around their leader. This would be the last time they would see each other, for a long time. Maybe indefinitely, until they could find their destinies.

* * *

Anon squeezed the handles of the backpack. The Solar Sailer was approaching fast. He would have to leave Bismuth soon to reach Tron City. He was holding his head down, thinking about his friends.

_I'm so sorry I had to leave... It's for the best. The Army wants me, not you. If I leave, and disappear into the Grid, then nobody will want to hurt you._

_This war is out of hand. If I don't make it, you guys are the only solution. Send five of our operatives to the End of Line Club. A friend of mine has connections. They'll be able to unite our Rebellion with another._

_Whether it's Tron or me, one of us will be hurt or derezzed. I just want to say that if I don't come home..._

Anon looked away, tears welling up behind his helmet...

_...I would do anything to stay. But I'm doing this not just for us_

But those kinds of promises were horrible. Anon smiled, again from behind his helmet. The best kinds of promises were those best broken. But he made his word. And he intended to keep it. The Solar Sailer departed, to help Anon's destiny reveal itself.

* * *

The Solar Sailer's lights indicated Tron City was on the tip. Anon raced out of the moving vehicle, not caring if he ran over the side. He hadn't bothered to change his circuitry. It wouldn't make a bit of difference. He raced along the platform, as a spotlight reigned down on him. Recognizers, filled with strays to send to the Game Grids, flashed every light possible on him. The slight movement of Anon's Light Cycle activating called for a microphoned shout by a Sentry.

"Alert!" The Sentry, obviously having a deeper voice than the original System Monitors, shouted, "Threat detected! Alert! Unauthorized program detected!" The thrill that Anon was feeling hadn't been felt in over a hundred cycles. Every pulse wrung onto him, digital heart beating madly. He hadn't had this much fun mocking Sentries and their poor aim since the ISO crackdown cycles ago. Almost like the Game Grid matches he would have with Tron and the Light Guard, Anon weaved through the current of Recognizer blasts with professional skill. The Game Grids weren't too far away, he knew that. He only hoped he wasn't too late.

* * *

The program shattered before his two Disks, hundreds of pixels spewing on the transparent floor where his body once was. The noise of Recognizers did not disturb Tron. In fact, they made his perception easier, to help him focus. Two programs attempted to slice him from both sides, but a back flip caused the two inexperienced duelists to slam their disks into each other's chests. Static poured out of their mouths as the two programs fell to the ground, more pixels littering the glass.

"Attention, programs," the female voice announcer rang throughout the screaming stadia, "This is final round. This round will feature Combatant 11 versus Rinzler." His name. Programs were cheering for him. His false name, no less. The stadium began forming into a massive room, with plenty of room to throw discs around. The combatant, wearing the generic combat helmet, looked at Rinzler draw his and Dyson's Disks. His circuitry was white, the same hue as Tron's circuitry before this mess.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," the man said, the White disc in his hand activating. A clumsy, miscalculated throw sent Rinzler into a spin, followed by Rinzler's two Disks following the Program in a blaze of orange lights.

"Oh, come on!" The program shouted, watching the Disks return to their owner, "Is that even legal?!" A beeping noise filled Rinzler's ears, just in time for him to see the rotating dial on the floor. He ran up the wall, just seconds before gravity was reversed on itself, sending him and the fighter, who was putting up a bigger fight than most programs, onto the roof of their ring.

Disks sliced past each other, Rinzler deftly dodging and angling his Disks in an effort to make a counterattack. At last, one slice, made from a Disk Lock, make contact with the program's arm. Instead of derezzing it, the program only howled in pain. One large gash came out of the spot where Rinzler's disks made contact. Another loud beep and the gravity returned to normal. Both were taken by surprise, slamming down on the floor. Rinzler could have sworn a large crack was made in his impact zone. His reflexes allowed him to recover, flipping around and enabling him to ambush the young program.

A sharp, rasping panic was discoverable over the shouting cheers of the audience. The program was clearly not used to Disk Wars. Then Rinzler saw it. And so did the program. Red liquid, seeping out of the program's arm. Only this wasn't a program. Rinzler's eyes darted to the User, his helmeted head locking back in place with his pupils.

"User."

* * *

Anon's eyes, still behind his helmet, lunged forward in horror as Tron was about to strike the program. Instead, his feral, Rinzler side did completely the opposite of expectations. The Tron side of his personality grabbed the program and shot his arm into the air. He was forfeiting the match. Rinzler, champion of the Game Grids, had just forfeited his math.

"Identify yourself, program!" a voice announced, echoing to the stands that Anon sat in. Previous files had identified CLU's latest assistant as a program known as Jarvis. The speech recognition program installed in Anon's wrist clarified Anon's suspicions.

"I'm not a program!" The program shouted. Anon's eyes rolled behind his black helmet, the white circuitry flaring in annoyance. CLU apparently stood up, with the same level of anger as Rinzler felt all the time.

"Identify!" CLU's voice was garbled, his helmet, the same shape as Anon's, scrambling everything. The unidentified program took a breath, then spoke five words that would change the Grid.

"My name is Sam Flynn."

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the shortest chapter in history. Had a lot going on and barely had time to squeeze this in. Hope you enjoyed nonetheless.

Next Time: Anon watches Sam Flynn in the Light Cycle Grid, reunites with the Light Guard and Tron, and finds Flynn and Quorra in the Outlands. He then traves to the End of Line Club to intercept Sam, but gets caught up in the fight that takes place.


	11. Chapter 11: I Fight for the Users

Chapter 11: I Fight For the Users

"Greetings, Programs!" Jarvis' magnified voice rang throughout Tron City's Light Cycle Grid. He had never competed in Tron City's Game Grids, but did, however, hear about the sheer beauty of the competitions. It was once peaceful, never derezzing anybody unless a program was reckless and crashed. A center of sportsmanship and freedom, it was the pride and joy of the city. Now, it was a way for CLU to derezz any program he deemed unnecessary. "This cycle, we have... a very special challenger. One that has not arrived in many cycles, one that is tyranny to our system. I present to you... the USER!" Hisses and jeers were coming from every direction as the crowd marveled in the amateur User's eyes. Nobody apparently cared for the Users in Tron City anymore, judging everybody by only Flynn's mistakes.

"So, what shall we do with this... _User? _Might I suggest..." Jarvis' suspenseful voice paused, then his face slid into a large, maniacal grin. "...The challenge of the Grid?" The crowd erupted into merciless applause. The throneship's hatch slid open, a pair of yellow-circuited feet stepping out. "Now.._ who _will be brave enough to challenge this singular opponent? Perhaps a more... experienced player of these Games." Anon's helmet stared upward, yellow and orange fireworks lighting up the black sky that made up the Grid.

"Your liberator..." Jarvis' speech was turning into a desperate grab for attention. There was no need. Everyone was cheering at the sight of the yellow-circuited program in front of them. "Your luminary... the one who vanquished the tyranny of the Users so many cycles before..." CLU turned to face Sam and spoke something that was completely drowned out by the hysterical crowd, "CCCLLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!"

As soon as the speech ended, Jarvis handed CLU a thin box, which slid out to contain two Light Cycle batons. Anon's Disk sprung into his hand as he made several quick circuitry changes, then put the only object keeping him in sanity on hs back again. A black disguise with minimal whit circuitry, one that Tron had taught him to use in stealth missions, rezzed in over his Monitor uniform. Sliding into the crowd, Anon wove through programs, all of them ranting at him for pushing. A loud shriek of tires echoed, CLU and his quintet of Sentries speeding past Flynn's son and four other riders. They were all at least knowledgable with the use of a Baton, for they quickly boarded their own means of survival. But Anon had a feeling that they would all die.

Flynn Jr. quickly boarded his own Light Cycle, joining his doomed team against what was the impossible. Anon's Light Cycle, an older 4th Generation Cycle, sped into the lower levels of the arena, it's Light Ribbon not even activated. Ten obnoxious noises of Light Ribbons activating flowed through the stoic and cold air of the Grid.

Anon's Light Ribbon, dyed pitch black, swept across the arena's basement floor, not a single soul noticing his miniscule presence. The less noticed, the better. One Sentry came his way, not even detecting the Light Ribbon that lay in front of him. A large splash of bits, some of them from the Sentry's body, flew across the floor of the Light Cycle Grid. Anon winced as a loud and scrambled sound of a program derezzing filled his eardrums.

Meanwhile, Flynn Jr. was handling his own, having taken out half of the remaining team. Sadly, more than half of the five riders that were on the Blue Team had been erased from existence. Two riders, Flynn's son and another anonymous rider, had decimated the entirety of CLU's team, minus CLU himself, and Flynn's partner had been derezzed by a cheating CLU, using his own disc to destroy the miserable program.

The final blow was coming. But as everything was about to end, a Light Runner, two Light Ribbons along with it, slammed sideways into CLU's Light Cycle, knocking the latter out cold into a cloud of pixels.

Sam climbed into the Light Runner, speeding away towards a hole in the wall. Anon's bike vanished underneath his feet, allowing him to climb back into the crowd. Hearing the Grid's announcer shout four words, "System Failure, release Rinzler", Anon turned back to see three orange Light Cycles speeding, upside down, towards the slower, but more heavily armed, Light Runner.

Anon didn't see everything, but the scream of two sentries and a hole in the arena wall told him that whoever was driving the Light Runner was very skilled, and escaped with only a few minor dings.

An appointment alert buzzed, telling Anon that he was running late. Anon took off out of the Game Grids district, rezzing his Light Cycle and speeding off into the Outlands.

* * *

"Be a good girl until we get back." Hax shoved Radia into the prison cell and activated the ray shields. The prison, as Pyro noticed, had hundreds of Radia's political opponents. Usually , they were seldom used, but Radia had obviously been on a crackdown, taking down all of her rivals with militaristic forces.

"Japter, Flad, find Guile and release him. He's the Coalition's new Chief of State. Sivet, I want you to find a new prison warden and release all of the prisoners." As the three Light Guard ran off to their respective assignments, Pyro watched as Beck edited his disk. No more was the suit of Beck the Mechanic, but now there was Tron's signature symbol, glaring at him in Beck's form.

"Beck, you alright?" Pyro asked, sitting down on the crate of supplies. Beck looked up in surprise, his helmet unclasping from his face.

"Yeah, wish this whole political overthrow was over. It kinda makes me sick." Beck went back to editing his disk. Paige was upstairs, inspecting the pipelines for any sanitation errors.

"Tell you what," Pyro said, "Why don't you take a few Basic Inferno Troopers and scout the Outlands, west of Tron City. Intel from inside CLU's ranks suggest a major project about 80 kilometers in that direction, from the End of Line Club."

"Near the Portal." Beck's expression flashed a hint of disturbance, and quickly changed back into a smile. "You got it. I'll assemble a squad. I won't let you, Anon, or Tron down." And with that, Beck dashed into a lift, while Pyro returned to his normal duties and to Hax's side.

* * *

Anon's Light Cycle vanished into thin air, back into the little stick of data that held it. This was supposed to be the place Tron told him to be at, but the appointee was invisible. The sky of the Outlands, though usually barren as the terrain, was speckled with the circuits if Recognizers and Army transports. That didn't help the suspicions that either Anon was early, or Tron's identity was revealed and was repurposed.

A loud buzzing noise filled the air as a white Light Cycle sped over the digital rock. The owner pushed the coding back into the baton it originated from. The program was just as easily distinguishable by the four white squares forming a "T" on his chest.

"Tron," Anon grunted, "How's life in the Occupation holding out?"

"Don't remind me." Tron's helmet removed itself, revealing his brown hair and soft brown eyes, toughened by the time spent fighting CLU. "It's no fun, killing programs just for being out too late. Don't ever mention it. Please."

"Just tell me why you needed me here." Anon's helmet tilted to the side, curious to Tron's actions. "From the way your message sounded, it must be really urgent. Tron sighed and spoke.

"It's CLU's fault," Tron explained, showing Anon a section of his arm. An injection has been placed above the elbow. "CLU injected a repurposing unit into my coding. It's only a matter of time before..." Tron gasped in pain, grabbing his head and collapsing in agony. Orange seeped throughout his circuits, the CLU-made virus infecting him just like Abraxas, all those cycles ago.

"Tron! Talk to me! What's going on?!" Anon rushed over, helping Tron up. Tron's eyes fluttered open, a large red glow where his irises would be. A low, electronic purr escaped his lips. A hand sank into Anon's shoulder, forcing him onto the ground as Anon yelled in harsh pain. His trembling hand reached for his disk, performing a Groundrez before one of Tron's disks could cut into his neck.

"Come on, Tron! This isn't you!" Anon shouted, lightning drowning out his speech. Tron roared in his ironic purr, pulling both disks out. Slashes came out of nowhere, cutting into Anon's light suit, barely missing the Monitor's weak points. The speed of Tron's attacks overwhelmed Anon, sending him tumbling over the cliffside. A large shout was the last thing heard before lightning cut out his scream. A large explosion burst over the side of the cliff, pixels splattering everywhere.

Tron.. no, Rinzler, looked over the side, seeing no body, but a shower of pixels scarring the bottom of the ridge. Rinzler perked at the ping in his code, telling him to be elsewhere. A light cycle sprung from a baton and landed underneath Rinzler, speeding off into the limits of Tron City.

Anon, hiding under the ledge that Tron stood on, climbed up the slope to see the orange lights of Rinzler's light cycle, speeding towards the main base of CLU's military.

Over the crack of the lighning, Anon spoke five words that only he could hear. "Where are you going, Tron?"

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the longest hiatus ever. I've been working on Into the Void, which you can find on my fanfiction page, and my new adventure and sci-fi book, Bio-X, which can be found in the Fictionpress archives. This is an incomplete version of the chapter, but as soon as I get the chapter completed I'll release the whole thing.

Edit: June 1st, 2013. Hey, hey, guys! Guess who's back in his Light Suit, and writing more fanfics? That's right, it's yours truly, QuilSniv! Due to increased pressure by DJ Remix, I'll be writing a Noir human version of My Little Pony, which means that the story will take place in a 1930s Gang war scenairo.

June 18: Back in business. Chapter 11 is now complete! Now, we're going back into the Legacy storyline, basically intertwining with the movie and out of the game. You'll be getting a new story "Reconfiguration", which describes Beck's adventures in a timeline that has no relevance to Aftermath. Thanks to Sonicfighter21354, Tron45 and Briannajs-22 for reviewing. Reviews, favorites, and followers are appreciated.

Next: Beck returns to Argon to find an old friend waiting for him, and if you've seen Legacy, you know what happens on Anon and Tron's side.


	12. Chapter 12: Painful Pleasure

Chapter 12: Painful Pleasure

The wind spread through the deserted streets of Argon. It was like an old friend, that dog with no leash. Beck knew how good it was to be back, even if it was in his Renegade outfit. Seven Basic soldiers stood behind him, surveying the area. Paige was not included in the away team, as she was still in Jetrona, fixing spare parts for later use.

"Sir, we were ordered to investigate the Outlands of Tron City, not Argon," a male Basic spoke. Mara and Zed, two of the programs selected to accompany Beck, slapped the Basic upside the head, silencing him.

"We're here on personal business," Beck said, letting his helmet fold over his face, his breath frosting the glass in front of him. "Scan the buildings. See if you can locate a life sign within a mile." The medic, a young female program with blond hair, nodded and typed a sequence into the backpack she was carrying. A satellite dish unfolded from the pack, sending a wave of energy from the tip. A few pieces of damaged code fell from the rubble that was once Argon, but the radar remained silent.

"Nothing within a mile's radius, sir," the program spoke, "I'll increase the radius to two miles." The wave of energy expanded, making a larger blast that made a small building fall on it's foundation.

"Sir!" The program spoke, "There's a program hiding in the rubble. That crane over there is where his life sign is. It's very faint." Beck nodded and started tossing rubble away from the entrance to the crane. Zed and Mara joined in, pulling open the crippled door. A heavy breathing noise emenated from the operating room, where, holding his wounds...

"ABLE!" Beck shouted, ripping off his helmet and hugging his grandfather figure, with tears streaming down his cheeks. Every flow of hot liquid on his face felt like a healing chamber had sprayed itself all over him.

"Stand back, Beck," the medic, named Allicia, pushed him aside and began opening the medical section of Able's disk. Negative code was pulled out, while vials of fresh code were added in. In no time, Able was back on his feet with only a few scratches to mock his appearance.

"So, Beck," Able said, dusting himself off and accepting a bottle of energy from Allicia, "What have I missed?"

"Well, Tron's met up with a friend, and formed a full- scale Coalition against CLU's regime. He's not here at the moment, but he's doing fine. Argon's in ruins, and we have hundreds devoted to our cause. How did you escape?"

"How do you think?" Able smirked," I simply jumped out the other side of the crane before it blew sky-high. I see you've kept yourself busy, with the Renegade suit." Beck smirked, before their comm officer called him over. Zed and Mara hugged Able, making plans to rebuild the garage,

"Sir, you might wanna look at this," the comm officer shuddered in fear as Beck snatched the telegram away from him. Beck stared at the message, then froze. His pupils dilated, and his skin paled. His fists clenched, turning white from lack of blood. He turned towards the Outland Highway, pulling out a baton, before handing the datapad back to the comm officer.

"Sir, should I send a message to command and send reinforcements?" he asked. Beck held a hand to gesture silence. The program froze, standing as still as stone before Beck turned and spoke raggedly, "No. This is something I need to deal with personally." And with that, Beck rezzed in a bike and sped down the Outland Highway, the sound of the Light Cycle's engine booming in the distance.

Zed, Mara, and Able joined the officer to stare at the message as well. After several minutes, they gasped in shock at what the message read.

_Paige has defected from the Coalition. She's stolen our most valuable plans and is on her way to CLU as this message is sent. Report immediately to Lieutenant Beck._

* * *

Anon's Light Cycle screamed into Tron City's limits. Chasing Rinzler was pointless now, as the shifty program could easily lose him or derezz him by surprise. Going to the End of Line Club, a place he had visited before, was the best possible option. Quorra was probably still alive, hiding with Flynn, but it wouldn't be the same without her. She was the first real friend Anon had experienced, and now he had no idea where she was. For all he knew, she had escaped to the Outlands.

What surprised Anon was how Flynn had avoided CLU for more than a thousand cycles. With every resource that CLU had, he should have found the User long before. Perhaps Flynn was smarter than his malicious duplicate and hid where no program would find him. On the other hand, CLU had no need for Flynn, now that he had Tron out of the way. He had no legitimate reason to locate Flynn, as Tron was the only threat that presented itself brightly.

The Light Cycle skidded across the road, before jerking to a halt at the base of a tall tower. He boarded a small two-man elevator, and watched as the city below shrunk to tiny ant-sized buildings.

Music blared into his helmet as the elevator doors swung open. Sentries were off-duty, chatting with female programs, some of them sirens, in a hope to impress them. Anon rolled his eyes behind the helmet, looking for Zuse, the program that was rumored to solve problems in the time it took Flynn to create the coding of a building. There were also programs from the Rebellion that were supposed to be here as well, to meet Zuse.

As soon as he thought of them, the two programs ,Bartik and Hopper, manifested out of the wispy smoke made of gossiping programs. Several others were gathered around them as Bartik, now with a menacing scar, spoke to the program resembling Zuse.

"...you heard me, Castor." Bartik growled, "I demand an audience. Zuse can unite the factions, create an insurmountable rebellion."

"Of course he can," the program, whose apparent designation was Castor, "Zuse can do many things." Castor's head turned, eyeing a program in the midst of the crowd. Anon's eyes followed Castor's gaze, locked onto the form of Sam Flynn. He was with a siren, who Anon identified as Gem. He had encountered her many a cycle ago, looking for the ISO known as Gibson. She was no help, however, just telling him that, "_Nobody goes into the games and lives to tell about it_." But here he was, ready to take action if a brawl ensued. Castor turned and began walking away. "I have some... business to attend, but have a drink! Courtesy of End of Line!" Anon began to trace Sam's steps, but lost him, Castor, and Gem in the crowd. Disappointed with his failure, Anon sat at the bar, waving at the bartender for a glass of energy. He complied, giving Anon the drink at the sound of several bits clinging on the counter.

Anon sat there, taking a drink from his glass every few minutes, taking off only part of his helmet to drink the beverage. The sound of music began to fade, as the sound of several Recognizers filled the outside. Anon gasped as he looked through the giant skylight. Black Guard descended on Wing Chutes, tearing through the glass that once provided natural luminance.

"I believed in the Users once before," Anon heard Castor say, "But that time is long gone is history." Anon pulled a Light Staff, turning to see Sam Flynn pull his disc and jump off of the balcony. Anon retracted his disk and copied the movement, drawing his own disk.

If he couldn't fight for the Users right now, it was the perfect time to fight by one.

* * *

Beck's teeth ground each other like tectonic plates, eyes filled with fury as he entered the Arjia Conduit. Long ago, CLU had torn the original Arjia Conduit, as the area Arjia had been standing on was no more than flat land. A new path was settled for land transport between Argon and Tron City, with junctions in Bismuth and Gallium running in between for traveling programs to pick up supplies. Beck had used this to his advantage, using coding to change his uniform.

He remembered what Tron's copy had said the day they met. "_You really thought one program could make the difference?_" Beck's response was simple, yet inspiring. "_Why not? One program already did. Tron._" He explained the reason for choosing Tron as his secret identity. "_Tron saved the Grid before. Maybe he could do it again_."

That was over. The Renegade was lost in the mist of time. Now, he needed a new mascot. Many already knew Tron was alive, as he had saved them. Two Trons running around in the same place would be suspicious. It was now that he chose his new alter ego.

Two sentries were harassing a young new program, probably fresh from the rez station. One of the Sentries spoke in a harsh tone, edited by vocal changes. "Show us your disk, program. Resistance is Deresolution." Beck stepped out of the crowd. A large, glowing "D" shone on his chest, brightened by the same circuits that had adjoined his first Renegade uniform. The best place for a test run.

"I wouldn't do that," Beck growled loudly. The crowd gasped at his confidence, only fueling his determination. "Trust me. Go home and tell your boss to leave Bismuth."

"Identify," the Sentry ordered, to which Beck pointed at his chest symbol.

"I am... The Delta!" Programs whispered to each other, shocked at the appearance of this new Renegade-like figure.

"Stand down, Program," one of the Sentries barked, the original two reinforced by eight more, "Or you'll be derezzed."

"Oh, come on," Beck smirked, "Are those the only words you ever say?" Several programs snickered at the comment, fueling the anger of the Sentries. All ten of the Sentries charged at Beck, to which the Delta flipped over one and smashed the edge of the disk into the Sentries face. Pixels splashed everywhere, and programs shrieked as Delta twirled his disk on one finger.

"You can't really expect a dog pile and momentum to stop me, can you?" Beck jeered. "The Renegade may have just played around and knocked you out. The Delta isn't so friendly." The nine remaining Sentries charged Delta, who stabbed, uppercut, and derezzed every Sentry in the fight.

A long silence followed the death of the last Sentry. A lone program began clapping, followed by two more. Two more then followed suit. Before long, the entire crowd was cheering Delta's name.

"DELTA! DELTA! DELTA!" Delta raised his fist, and pulled out a baton.

"Remember, Bismuth," Beck said, "Tron may live, but Delta fights. Take this fight as inspiration, because this is a quick trip. Drive your Occupation out of Bismuth, and tell CLU that I'm comin' for him!" The crowd roared with joy and excitement as Beck pulled open the baton and sped back towards the Arjia Conduit.

Beck restructured the scenario that was between him and the disguised Tron. "_Tron was already out there. He lives. Maybe Delta could carry on Tron's legacy_."

* * *

Anon's Light Sword pierced the heavens, slashing at Sentries who dared to try and sky dive down as the earlier Black Guards before him. Programs were in pieces, others scurrying for the elevator. Sam was heavily dueling one of the four black guard that had dropped down earlier. A Light Sword went through the Black Guard, distracting another long enough for Anon to derezz him. A wave of short, black hair and that faint, yet stoic, smile.

Quorra. She was here. Fighting like tomorrow was the end of cycles. A light sword in one hand, disk in the other. Two Black Guards were advancing on her, ready to derezz if necessary. Yet they made it nowhere close.

Anon cracked out a baton, revealing his recently-mastered long range weapon. The gun he had confiscated at the beginning of the Coalition, when it was still a Rebellion. Bullets met their targets with professional accuracy, splintering holes of coding into his target's heads.

The distraction was enough to keep Anon away from Quorra's view. The Monitor looked over to see that one of the Black Guard had chopped off her arm. Another was holding her body. With extreme skill, Sam Flynn kicked one and punched the other, both of them landing on the head. The unconscious Black Guard tumbled over a piece of furniture, giving Anon the time needed to punch bullet holes into their chests, effectively derezzing them.

As soon as the pixels faded from their bright orange to obsidian black, everything went dark. Lights deactivated, the only thing illuminating the room was the circuitry of the programs fighting. And in the center... was _him_.

Flynn. Though older, with gray and silver replacing the streaks of blond and black in his hair, he was still recognizable. He was giving the other programs a fighting chance. And they were taking it. Even if it meant taking a few others with them, all but one Black Guard were derezzed by the primal Basics. Anon turned and saw Flynn and Sam carrying Quorra out, to the elevator, when a Black Guard snuck up and fired a grappling hook. At Flynn's disk.

The disk flew back and ended in the hands of the perpetrator, only for the Black Guard to be shot in the head by Zuse. Anon turned and ran towards the elevator shaft, barely avoiding a heavy-duty grenade. A wing chute was pulled into Anon's hands as he jumped through the open door.

Anon pulled where the string should be, but there wasn't a string. A burn mark indicated the string had been burnt off in the inferno. Anon groaned, threw off the wing chute, and rezzed in his Light Cycle. The bike was faster, and in minutes, Anon caught up with the malfunctioning lift.

He could see Flynn, desperately attempting to fix the problem. The logistics were correct, but the area of repair was erroneous. Anon looked behind him to see the lift's brakes were bent from the explosion. Using every pound of strength he could muster, Anon gave the brake a mighty kick. Anon grabbed onto a safety handle as the elevator ground to a halt, the alternative to being thrown into the air like a neon ragdoll.

Before anybody could see him, Anon rushed into the freight depot, spotting a Solar Sailer that was being loaded for a journey into the Outlands.

"The direction of the Portal," Anon whispered to himself. The monitor hid himself as Flynn and Sam, who was holding an unconscious Quorra, boarded the same Solar Sailer. Anon sighed as he lowered himself and sat between two cargo crates. As long as he was here, he would make sure that the Flynns and Quorra were safe.

* * *

Rinzler stood at CLU's side, watching the Sentries work the jobs programmed into them. Rectifier troops were positioned at every corner of their new warship, ready to do what their leader wished.

Soon, their master plan would be realized, bit by bit, they would get to the ultimate goal: perfection.

CLU had the key. The master key, Flynn's disk, would transport the entire Carrier ship through the I/O portal, where they could take over another world. One where there was no restrictions, no limits.

Soon, every vision that his leader imagined would become a reality.

* * *

Anon's eyes fluttered open, to see Quorra and Sam talking innocently on the bow of the Solar Sailer, while Flynn was meditating on the catwalk. A loud, buzzing noise snapped him out of the trance of seeing his friends in full strength. A recognizer flew right past them, towards a large orange light in the fog. The fog blew away to reveal an even larger hangar, three-man Light Jets, Light Tanks and other vehicles lined up in neat, orderly fashion. Anon then realized the horrid truth. CLU was building a larger army than ever, had reconstructed his carrier ship, and was using Flynn's disk to access a world beyond his own.

Anon watched as Flynn, Sam and Quorra exited the Solar Sailer, but then turned around and ran over and exited the other side. A large, glowing orange rotational gyro system worked as two things, a power generator, and a mass repurposing unit. Hundreds of programs, who were released from static animation, were forced into the chamber and came out as a hive mind of sentries.

"Greetings, programs!" CLU's voice, as well as his, rang throughout the carrier ship. Millions of Sentries were lined, in militaristic order, as CLU gave a large and irrelevant used a special sensor to disable CLU's voice from Anon's helmet, then dashed away with a bag full of explosives.

Bombs were placed on the power generator, on several Light Jets and a cluster of fuel tankers. Anon then proceeded, on an elevator, towards the bridge, but kept his distance from Sam and Flynn. Anon fine-tuned his helmet to spy on Flynn and Sam's audio outputs.

"-Need to get your disk, Dad. Meet in the hangar in a few minutes, and get us some wheels."

"Wheels? What are you going to do?"

"I'm a User." Sam's voice was unsure, and steady. "I'll improvise." As the two Users separated, Anon watched as Flynn walked down and repurposed a Sentry into giving him Light Jet access. Moments later, an orange disc, followed by Rinzler, fell out and landed on the lift. Anon raced down the lift, only to hear the words, "Master Key disengaged", and a very angry CLU glaring at him. Six Black Guard stood at his sides, insurmountable for most programs. But Anon wasn't like most programs. He was the next level to perfection.

"You." CLU motioned two fingers, with two of his entourage stepping out and brandishing Katanas. "Take care of him." As Anon watched CLU walk away, the Black Guard tackled him to the ground, disks in one hand.

"You guys are getting worse, you know," Anon grinned, "Just give up." Those words just pressed the Black Guard into slamming their disks into random areas, trying to derezz Anon's head. A leg sweep and the Black Guard were off of Anon's body.

"Now, let's get dangerous." Anon jeered, drawing his disk.

* * *

Beck's Light Jet flew through the Outland mist, an orange carrier ship in view. The fog covered even his circuits, allowing the mist to part without detecting his presence. He deactivated the Jet just on the side of the cliff. Sentries gaped at his Delta uniform, rushing in on him. Beck swung out a Light Sword, slicing them either in the chest, derezzing them completely, or just plain cutting off limbs. Time would collapse the Sentry code in on itself, from the unstable pieces barely holding. In minutes, all the Sentries a pile of pixels.

"Who knew you guys would be easier to derezz in greater numbers?" Delta chuckled, swinging his Light Sword in multiple directions. An orange, stretching hand grabbed Beck's head, slamming the helmet into the ground. Delta looked up, slicing the hand with any strength he had. The hand revolted back from the pain, and Delta recognized the grunt.

"Tesler," Beck growled. The former general had turned into a science experiment, parts of machinery attached to his limbs. Paige stood by Tesler's side, helmet clasped the same way as Beck. "I liked you when I thought you were dead. And I liked Paige better when she was on my side."

"How do you know my name?" Tesler barked, to which Beck responded, "Easy. I know the Renegade. He's a great tattler."

"And how would you know the Renegade?" Paige interrogated. "He's the inspiration for a revolution in Bismuth, which is way too much distance in that amount of time." Beck stood up, dusted himself off, removing his helmet.

"Simple," Beck grimaced, "He's me. I haven't gone by the name of the Renegade since the end of the Argon Uprising. You should know that, Paige. I trusted you." Paige ground her teeth in frustration. She activated her Light Staff and charged her ex-ally. Beck flipped and threw Paige over his shoulder. Her head slumped as she slipped in the realm of the unconscious. Tesler roared in anger.

"Get up, Paige!" he roared, "You can be so much more! All you have to do is kill Delta!" Beck flung his disk at Tesler, who easily blocked the projectile with his hands, sending Beck into the air to catch it.

"Surrender, Delta," Tesler growled in a familiar tone, "And I might consider letting you live."

"Might?" Beck bellowed, slashing Tesler's arm off with his Katana, only to have it regenerate. For every hole Beck made in Tesler's defenses, a new defense, stronger and more durable, took it's place. "How about I kill you and definitely live? That seems a bit more satisfying."

"Are you kidding? Without me, Paige would never have the motivation to kill you. She's _scared_ of me. And I have kept things hidden about her past that even _she_ doesn't know. What _Tesler_ didn't know was that his lieutenant was awakening, and overhearing every single word that her commander spoke. "_I _killed her friends. I manipulated her into believing the ISOs she was treating had murdered the ones she cared about. And she fell for it. Why should she join some run-of-the-mill Rebellion? She had no incentive. She never knew." And so Beck stepped aside, revealing to Tesler that Paige now knew. She knew the truth, every lie, every deception, every false piece of evidence. She knew that she was on the wrong side. Beck grinned, cuts and scrapes making his appearance much more menacing, and said, "And now she does."

"To the User hell with you, Renegade!" Tesler roared, raising an arm to strike. Before the fist could make contact with it's target, Paige rushed forward, taking the fist to her chest.

"Don't call him that." Paige's voice was choked, with the will to live on a fatal injury. "Call him.. Delta." Paige's eyes rolled back, and her body shattered into millions of pieces.

"Well, Paige..." Beck said, his face shifting to a voice of pity, his vision blinding from tears of sorrow, "You... just redeemed yourself."

Tesler stood there, stunned, then prepared another assault. Before it could strike, another force interfered. An orange disc, from CLU's carrier, swung from the fog and sliced off one of Tesler's arms.

The disk clattered to the rock floor, and Beck scooped it up. Rinzler's head appeared, giving Beck the permission to use it. Retracting his Light Katana, he activated his and Rinzler's disks, stating one thing that would be Tesler's downfall.

"Alright. This just got way over the personal level. It's now reached the Mano-a-mano level." The two forces swung at each other, the cliffside to the Sea of Simulation right next to them. A misstep or failure in attack could send one, the other, or both plummeting to their death. A disk clashed with a hand, a hand clashing with the disk. Neither was more effective than the other, but one would eventually surpass the other in endurance. And that was true.

Beck's disk sliced through Tesler's arm, leaving a large gash in Tesler's chest. The former General fell over the side, but not before grabbing Delta's leg. Delta clung to the edge of the cliff,one hand grasping the rock structure, the other one his disk. Tesler looked up at Delta with eyes that showed three things: pleading, desperation, and hatred. But Delta only saw the third, and it was magnified through his last three words, that he had spoken during the end of their first fight.

"This isn't over."

Delta locked onto his eyes, then readied his disc. He closed his vision, then spoke. "You're right. It's not over. For me." A large grazing sound was heard, bits scattered across his leg, and Delta watched as Tesler, armless and overpowered, plunged into the sharp rocks that would impale and derezz him.

Delta climbed atop the cliffside, then picked up Paige's scattered bits. Delta then buried them, then wrote a message in the rock adjacent to the burial. "Here lies Paige: A hero." Delta turned, saluted to the portal, and said, "May the Users have mercy on their souls."

* * *

Anon's disk met air as the Black Guard barrel-rolled to the side, who retaliated by using their swords as javelins. The swords met coding, but not Anon's, who grabbed the sword and stabbed one with their own sword, the other with his disk. The fight had been going on for several minutes, neither side getting an advantage, until the Monitor swiftly and painlessly ended the duel.

"I'll admit, you guys are great at fighting. But I'll also admit this." Anon looked up, pulling complicated maneuvers with his disk. "I'll also say I'm better."

Anon raced to the bridge of the carrier ship, and pressed the detonator. Explosions rocked the ship, crippling the generator and lighting fires everywhere.

"Tron..." Anon raced to the window of the bridge, to see Light Ribbons weaving a quilt in the air. A three-man Light Jet One, with white circuitry, graced the skies with serenity, using multiple guns to overpower the Black Guards. But one Light Jet surpassed where others had failed. It was heavily modified with orange circuitry, a hybrid between CLU and his Black Guard. Rinzler, the bridge of perfection, and the artist of atrocities under CLU's control. Anon activated his own Light Jet and flew towards the duel. Anon then screamed the loudest since his creation.

"TROOOON! WAKE UUUUUUUUP!"

* * *

A/N: New chapter at last. Not complete, liking the cliffhanger effect I'm making. Favorites, Followers and Reviews are loved and appreciated, and I will update as ofter as possible.

Edit: Chapter's completed at last. Longest chapter ever. Seriously. This is my longest chapter. EVER. And I hope the halfway mark coming next will satisfy you for a while, while I'm drafting new ideas for the Coalition. It pained me to let Paige derezz, but I wasn't comfortable with just keeping her there as a Damsel in Distress. It was a prefect time for her to realize the truth, and take down those who lied to her.

Thanks to PrincessKai317 and SonicFighter for their reviews, and let me know if I should call Beck... well, Beck, or Delta.

Next: END OF LINE... Or is it?


	13. Chapter 13: End of Line-

Chapter 13: End of Line...

Once, there was a program named Tron. He fought for the Users, as he was programmed. He inspired the weak to be strong. He kept those around him safe.

He was a program created long before the ISO Wars, long before the creation of the Grid itself. He was made in an ENCOM mainframe, by Alan-One. The User who gave him everything: an objective, a home, a form, a life. He defeated the MCP, with the help of the digitized User Flynn.

Within a User year, he was at his prime on the Isolated Grid. He was the moniker of the freedom and peace on the system. No evil escaped his grasp, if he could help it.

But Tron was gone. In his place was Rinzler, the shadow of CLU. The one who crept in the shadows, malicious, calculating, a living death wish for disobedient programs. He followed every order with perfection, even surpassing CLU's high standards for success. Today was different.

He had found another User. He had failed to capture the Flynns twice, and there was an imperfection running around, one step ahead on the game board. The ISO was crafty, making every attempt to kill her and the Flynns result in failure. He swore the next time they met, he would be victorious.

And now, as he caused mayhem and destruction on the fleeing Flynn's Light Jet, he circled above, and came face-to-face with the User. The first time in hundreds of cycles, maybe thousands. He heard five words. Words that would make him reconsider his place on the Grid.

"Tron... What have you become?" Rinzler stared at him, thinking back as time seemed to slow around him.

* * *

_"What is this building?" Tron had asked Flynn. "There's no relevance to it at all." The word "Flynn's" was etched into the wall, the white circuitry and streets around it adding flair to the desolate Grid. CLU watched with curiosity from afar, leaning on his Light Cycle._

_"I'm putting paces in, man," Flynn said calmly, watching as the building formed on itself, many other buildings creating their own foundations. "Someday, it'll be more than you, me and CLU out here. I'm making more programs, and they'll make this place a utopia. Disease, hatred, dissent, none of that will be here. It'll be perfect." The year was 1983 in the User world, and Flynn was carrying many burdens: running an entire computer company, a father, and many other responsibilities._

_Tron watched as Flynn stared at the sapling Tron City, CLU and Tron at his side._

_"And human life appeared by chance, in the right conditions," Flynn said, spreading his jacketed arms wide, "Maybe, just maybe, the condition of the Grid will be right. The Grid could manifest it's own programs."_

_"Are you sure that's wise, Flynn?" CLU asked innocently, folding his arms, "Wouldn't that ruin the perfection?" Flynn turned around and grinned at his duplicate._

_"I understand I programmed you to create the perfect system," Flynn said, "And you've done an excellent job. But it's time we took the next step. Made some risks. Who knows, it might be fun. All we have to is try."_

* * *

Rinzler snapped out of his memory, focusing on maintaining a firing distance between the two Light Jets. Every floating rock was an obstacle, a setback that he had to overcome. And like his time as Tron, there were many of them ahead of him.

"Rinzler! Take the shot!" Rinzler flinched when he heard his leader's voice. The stoic tone was enough to intimidate even the most hardened programs, even his own henchman. Rinzler thought a moment, then flew upward to cleanse his mind.

**Error- Directive Flaw- Repairing Flaw- Directive 12- Destroy Users and ISOs**

**Error Error Error- Directive 12 corrupted- Attempting to quarantine and delete directive**

"_Flynn_!"

Rinzler remembered that day as clearly as a crystal mirror. CLU had made his stand, proven his point. It was here that brought them to today.

**Directive 12 deleted- Restoring previous Directives 1,2,3,4**

"_Am I still to create the perfect system?_"

"_Yeah?..._"

That cycle, everything changed. The shadow had overpowered the god. He had told Flynn to run. Those words would haunt him, for allowing Flynn's jacket to be his last sight before CLU struck him with his own disk.

**Error- Unable to restore Directives**

That was the past. Now, it was the final round of Grid Poker. The Grid was the table, the programs the card. But now, each side was on their final gambit. They each had one play left.

Light and Dark.

Blue and Orange.

No matter which way you put it, there could only be one winner. And the "Winner Takes All" slogan couldn't be anymore correct. Rinzler then realized that Tron was never gone. It's not that easy to destroy a program. They exist as a ghost, haunting and following their former form, all the while rarely manipulating their motions. Tron had brought back the reason Rinzler had existed. How _they_ had existed.

**Directive 1 for JA-307020- Fight For The Users.**

Rinzler's Jet shot down, swinging horizontally towards CLU. White began to overpower his orange circuits. The system was cleansing him and purging the corruption. Tron powered up his engines, and spoke his last words as the evil inside of him.

"I... Fight for the USERS!" CLU yelled in defeat as the two Light Jets collided, creating a large ball of digital fire, created courtesy of the pixels. Tron had succeeded The Users were safe for now.

Air flowed around him. His baton was at his side. Pulling it was simple. But CLU was another matter. Tron knew a large fight between the two would prove which was amazing and which was superior. He accepted the challenge.

The two tussled for control. A struggle between the one who brought terror, and the one who brought peace. To each of them, their foe was terror, and they were peace.

Tron felt three large kicks to his helmet, and lost all muscle control as CLU snatched the Baton. The last thing Tron saw before hitting the water was CLU, ready to deal the last blow to the Users.

And the last thing he saw before losing consciousness was his orange circuitry cutting out, replaced by their peaceful white glow. It lulled him to shut down but not before letting him emenate his last thoughts.

'_Let's see where this goes. Who knows, might be fun_. _All I have to do is try._'

**Rinzler was purged.**

**Tron was back.**

**End of line...**

* * *

A/N: This isn't the end of everything. Tron and Flynn will be back. But to commemorate this chapter, which may the halfway mark, here's a little short stanza I wrote. Hope you've enjoyed Aftermath so far. Favorites, Follows, and Reviews are loved, and remember; As long as Tron lives, the Grid will be free.

Inevitable Update: Remember programs, Wednesday is the last day to vote for the fate of Aftermath and Redemption. Make your voice and vote count as much as the others. Good Luck.

**No one is ever gone unless you have faith**

**That they live on in incorporeal space**

**They follow you forever, ghosting your thoughts**

**And putting your movements and your future in place.**


	14. Chapter 14: -For Today

Chapter 14: -For Today

Tron's eyes slowly cranked open, his head spinning. The first clear thing he saw was the hull of a Light Jet, resting on the water. Looking down, the circuits covering his body had reverted back to white. Turning, he saw Anon with a coil of Light Cable, untying the end from Tron's waist.

"And here's the legendary hero himself," Anon chuckled, "Thought you were sunk, literally. Good thing your friendly neighborhood Anon came to save you."

"Okay, you win." Tron grinned, allowing the helmet to retract. "I owe you one. Gotta admit, it feels good to be back in white circuits. What's happening? I saw CLU heading towards the portal. Chasing after the Flynns."

"The Flynns are fine."Anon gazed into the thin light of the Portal before hiding the Light Cable in the emergency supply cabinet. "Rectifier's engines are crippled. I set explosives up inside the engines, so it should buy Quorra and the Flynn family some time to get to the portal."

"Tron! Anon!" Beck's voice rang out. The two looked up to see the Renegade's Light Jet landing in the digital water next to theirs.

"What's going on?" Beck worriedly stuttered, only to notice the two monitors staring with confusion at his Delta suit. "Oh, the new suit? Long story. I'll tell you later." Beck watched with fear as Rectifier loomed over them, guns pointed at the glowing portal. "I'm guessing we should.. head..over.." Beck stopped speaking as a large shock pulse rang through the electromagna rocks, instantly disintegrating the fragments of code.

"Get into the Sea!" Tron shouted, "Flynn's created a reintegration! If we get caught up, we go down with Rectifier!" All three programs dove into the Sea of Simulation just as the shock wave destroyed the Light Jets stationed in the water. Debris from the destroyed Jets sank to the bottom when Anon activated an emergency raft. The other two programs grabbed hold as the raft floated to the surface.

Beck, Tron, and Anon gasped for air, clinging to the raft as their only means of surviving. The shock wave suddenly retracted, a digital black hole left in the portal platform.

Beck watched in awe and spare Light Jet parts fell from the sky, a heavily damaged three-man Jet splashing into the water, remaining afloat for Beck to climb the boarding ramp. Several controls were damaged, coding torn in places where wires should be.

"Can you do anything?" Tron asked, entering the Light Jet, with Anon entering close behind. "Looks pretty banged up."

"Just be lucky that Delta's alter ego is a mechanic, and that this Light Jet isn't in pieces like everything else from the Rectifier." Beck's recoder worked magic, allowing Beck to repair the torn wires with little to no problems. In no time at all, the Light Jet was activated, allowing the boarding ramp to close and for the fully-repaired Jet to take into the sky.

"Oh, by the way," Delta handed Tron the disk, containing the memories of the System Monitor, now freed from it's corruption, "Here. I have a feeling you'll need it later. Tron smiled, placing the warm disk on his back.

"Head to portal," Tron motioned to Delta, who was in the pilot's seat, "I want to see if there are supplies or programs. Maybe even the Flynns." Delta nodded, turning the Light Jet around and revved the engine to max, pushing it towards the obstacle-free Portal.

* * *

Japter and Flad stood on the balcony of their apartment in glistening Jetrona, the other Light Guard sleeping sound. A loud buzzing noise alerted Japter, who activated the projector. A stream of code formed itself into a message, which Flad transferred to a datapad to read.

"It's an encrypted message," Japter said, eyeing the letter, "From Tron of all programs." Japter squinted behind his helmet, then shot up, alert and excited. "CLU's dead! They did it! I can't believe it!"

"Muuuugh..." Riot groaned, rising from his bed, "Something about CLU dying? That's good, right?"

"For us, yes! Well partially," Flad shrugged, "CLU has eight generals directly under his command. In due time, they'll turn into remnants. The eight Generals will make their own armies. Eight small armies against one mediocre army equals User hell for us."

"We have the programs," Sivet yawned, who had woken up quite suddenly, "We just need the artillery and ships. I remember a report from Mara. She said that a program called Delta sparked a revolution in Bismuth. Bismuth is the main ship builder in the grid, other than Boron City. Imagine if we had the entire Bismuth Shipyard at our disposal. We would be insurmountable with that kind of force!"

"Not to mention that we'd have the military forces of Bismuth and Argon as our backbone. We could end the war with one blow to Tron City!" Hax said, who had reactivated shortly before. "But I advise we take things slowly."

"Agreed." Pyro muttered, nodding his head. "We need to take back most of the cities before CLU's remnants find out. In the meantime, I'll report to Tron and Anon." The other Light Guard nodded before returning for much-needed sleep.

* * *

The Light Jet circled around the Portal, which was, surprisingly, still in one piece, like the three programs in the circling Light Jet. Delta looked out the portal, then tilted his helmet in confusion.

"I don't get it," Delta muttered, maintaining his course to the landing pad. "The portal's still standing, even though it's made of code too. It should have been destroyed in the reintegration pulse too."

"Flynn probably made the Portal indestructible for a reason." Anon, who was sitting in the back seat, and staring at the catwalk, spoke for the first time in a while, "After all, you can't access the Portal without that catwalk. Put us down." Delta complied, and landed the Jet next to a heavily damaged three-man Light Jet. The Jet had been involved in the dogfight with CLU, and the damage was the major pointer. The quad turret was ripped apart, and the engine was smoldered from CLU's laser bullets. Tron shrunk when he saw the damage he had inflicted in his Rinzler persona.

"Well, that brings back old times," Delta said, watching Tron stare at the damaged Jet. Tron turned around, brought out of his mesmerizing trance, and walked the thin stairs with the other two Monitors, even if Delta was self-appointed.

"Looks like CLU and the Users had a real party here." Delta looked at pieces of wire, torn like the engine of Flynn's three-man Jet. Pieces of metal were scattered across the floor, most of them in front of them. Delta kicked a few pieces of metal and knocked them into the chasm below. He gulped, hearing the clang of metal underneath the Portal, and stepped back, to find a switch. Tron nodded, and Anon flipped it.

"At least the tech still works." Anon snarked, watching as a bridge to the Portal platform extended and met halfway.

"Exuberance, please," Delta said, "It was just a magic trick. And give a round of applause to my lovely assistant, Anon." Tron began cracking up as Anon slapped Delta upside the head. The joyous occasion was busted by a large explosion from the Portal Lock-on Center. Pieces of debris flew into the Portal chasm, and digital smoke blew into the helmeted faces of the Monitors.

"What in the Users was_ that_?!" Anon shouted, only to see the smoke clearing. All three programs drew their disks, Beck also drawing his sword. The first thing they saw from the dissipating smoke was a leather boot. Then a hand. Eventually the whole body of a program came into focus.

"I think your phrase was a bit too literal, Anon," Tron said, not moving an inch. A leather jacket and jeans were the main clothing of the figure. A single white cicuit ran down the zipper of the jacket. Brown hair, complete with blond streaks, filled the idenity of the program, replacing the streaks of gray, silver and white. The wrinkles on his face had completely vanished, with only a few stubs of facial hair. It was basically a resurrection and age reversal thrown into one package.

"Hey hey. How are you guys doing?" Kevin Flynn grinned.

* * *

_The User World: Los Angeles, California, ENCOM Tower, January 5__th__, 2011, 10:04pm_

"Mr. Flynn?" The secretary said, eyeing Sam Flynn curiously, "Mr. Flynn." Sam snapped out of his spasm, away from the picture of him and his father, when Sam was only seven years old. It had been a week since Sam had returned from the Grid, and seized control of ENCOM from corrupt CEO Richard Mackey.

"Sorry, Melissa," Sam said, straightening his tie, "What's going on?"

"Sir, I was told to remind you that the board has a meeting in a week, and has requested your attendance. For the meeting to discuss FlynnOS13." Melissa looked at her clipboard, then nodded. Her blond hair bounced as she broke a pencil in sheer distaste of the next memo. "Oh, and you have a meeting with F-Con Executives in eight days."

"Thanks, Melissa." Sam rose from his desk, grabbing the keys to his motorcycle, his helmet, motorcycle suit, and messenger bag, "It's getting dark. You might want to remind everybody that they get out of work now."

"Yes, sir." Sam nodded at Melissa as he went and changed into his cycle suit, stuffed his blazer, pants and tie in his bag, along with other important ENCOM documents, and went to the garage where he kept his Ducati.

Shoving the keys into the ignition, Sam left the ENCOM premises, to head to his new apartment. After that, he needed to head to the arcade.

He had work to do. And not just here.

* * *

A/N: Told you Tron wasn't dead. Plot twist all the way. Good old reunion between three familiar programs and an investigation of the portal. Turns out Flynn is alive (always thought Jeff Bridges' character was too awesome to die:). Have plans for the Garage programs and Paige, but I need votes on who to bring back. Review your vote, and favorites and followers are greatly appreciated. Have fun, and eat healthy.

Time's up, by the way. The poll on my bio is a tie, so I'm making the final call of how to make Aftermath and Redemption. We're merging. End of Line. :)


	15. Chapter 15: The Uncharted Frontier

Chapter 15: The Uncharted Frontier

_The Grid, TC1304, Portal_

"Flynn..." Tron said, putting his disk on it's dock, situated on his back. "You're alive..." They said programs couldn't experience emotions, but right now, Tron was feeling complete shock and rejoice.

"Well, of course I am, man!" Flynn smiled, patting Tron on the back, "Why wouldn't I be?" The other programs stared in confusion before Delta said, "Well, you just attempted a reintegration and blew up the whole area before the cliffside! Wouldn't that kill you as well?" Flynn laughed and shook Delta's shoulders.

"Nah, it doesn't work like that. You see, a reintegration brings a program back into it's User, bringing some of the program's qualities, like immortality and youth, into the User. Therefore, the blast doesn't affect me, since I'm not made of code like you three." The three programs before Flynn all nodded in confirmation of understanding.

"Now, I've seen what you can do, and I'm impressed," Flynn said, exiting across the catwalk, "So I'm guessing there's work to be done on the Grid. Am I right?" Another nod. "Right. Well, then, can't keep the Grid waiting, now can we?" Delta nodded, before drawing Paige's disk from his belt. Flynn noted the disk by pointing a finger at it. "Whose disk is that?"

"It belonged to a program named Paige." Delta explained, retracting his helmet. The color was returning back to Beck's battle-scarred face. "She was a medic in the Rebellion, but was derezzed saving me from General Tesler. She was a good friend." Beck intentionally left out the fact that Paige pulled a heel-face-turn on him, and stole many precious plans. "This disk is all that's left of her." Flynn walked over and snatched the disk. Beck shouted, "Hey!"

Tron held Beck back as Flynn started looking through Paige's coding. "I get it... there!" Beck watched in curiosity as Flynn took out all the repurposed code in her disk, which was most of it, and motioned for some vials of energy. Anon raced to the runway, and came back with many vials of medical energy in his hands. Flynn was cautious, since any sudden changes in the physical state of the disk could cause it to explode. Therefore, it was Anon, Tron and Beck's job to insert energy into the areas where Flynn had removed it.

After several close calls, the data was finally even and tuned to maximum tempo. "There we go." Flynn placed her disk on the ground and allowed the others to enjoy the magic show. Code slowly formed on top of the disk, making Paige's derezzed body a reality once again. Her hair had lost it's bun, instead falling down to her shoulders, with a custom streak of blue in her hair that Flynn added for the fun of it. Instead of her white Rebel circuits, a mint green was her full and primary circuit.

"Radical," Flynn said, marveling over his creation. "It's been a long time since I actually created a program." Holding Paige's body, he watched her disk recharging. He picked up her unconcious form and turned around. "It'll take at least a full cycle until she can wake up and speak, and two more until her normal body functions return to full capacity. You three have a Light Jet?"

"Er...yes," Tron explained, "But it's three-man. I doubt five programs would be comfortable in that small amount of space."

"Flynn flew here in a three-man Jet as well," Anon chipped in, "But it looked pretty banged up."

"Uh, hello?" Delta said, flipping out his recoder, "Did you somehow forget that I'm a mechanic? I'll have that Light Jet fixed by the end of the cycle if it's the last thing I do." Looking at the recoder, he grinned in satisfaction. "Thanks, Bohdi."

* * *

_The User World: Los Angeles, California, Flynn's Arcade, January 6__th__, 2011, 12:45am_

The Ducati rolled over the slick pavement, blackened by the rain that had pelted down this morning. It's rider reined the bike to halt like a tamed stallion, pushing it into a parallel parking space next to one of the few sentimental places the rider could think of.

Sam Flynn pulled off his helmet, only to find that the neon letters of the sign that gave the arcade it's name were turned off. He had, in order to commemorate the 21st anniversary of his father's disappearance, decided to raise funds to restore the place to it's original glory. ENCOM executives wanted to update the arcade with more modern games, such as a large group of Xbox or a Wii, but Sam had protested against it, stating that those dusty arcade games were classics, and many of them were his father's own creation. Besides, behind one of the games was a secret Sam couldn't let anybody find out.

Behind the classic game of Tron, one of the many games his dad had coded, was the massive iron door. Behind that was many more doors, all leading to Flynn's grand masterpiece.

A digital frontier, the Grid was the one place Sam could think of that was probably faring quite well, other than a psychotic dictator program attempting to enter his world, with a large number of Rebellions fighting against the armies of CLU, but to no avail.

"Well, dad," Sam said, flipping open his macbook, "I think you and I should get a little playtime together." A small memory chip was slung to Sam's neck as a necklace-like memento of his adventure through the Grid. That was his key to the city.

What Sam realized as a reprecussion of trying to transfer the Grid was that it could only create carbon duplicates, since his computer ran on wi-fi instead of a mainframe. Therefore, Sam could create his own Grid, via the digitizing laser, inside his macbook, even though it would take up most of the hard drive's data.

The massive problem was, however, that a macbook did not have as many outlets and sockets as the bulky touch screen his father used to access the digitizing laser tech, and Sam growled in frustration at this epiphany. Sighing, he closed his computer and went back to his small bunker, positioned on Los Angeles River.

* * *

_The Grid, TC1305, Portal Runway_

Repairing a damaged Light Jet with a combusted engine and torn machine guns was hard enough, but Delta began experiencing frustration at the amount of noise surrounding his ears from the other Light Jet. Flynn, Anon and Tron were talking about recent events on each person's end. Flynn's were exaggerated, claiming to have defeated an entire swarm of Gridbugs with his bare hands, while Tron and Anon had every detail sharp as a Light Katana.

"Alright," Delta said, pulling the Recoder away from the Light Jet, "I was able to make the Jet airborne again, and patch up most of the holes in the hull, but the rear turret's toast. Rinzler messed it up beyond even an expert mechanic's repair."

"That'll do fine," Flynn said, picking up Paige and boarding his Light Jet, "Delta and I'll take this one, and bring Paige with us. You two take the other Light Jet and provide cover on our rear." Tron thumbed-up Flynn in compliance, motioning Anon to follow him and board their Light Jet.

"I can already see the first thing I need to fix," Flynn muttered, looking at his war-torn masterpiece, "The Grid's government. It's in shambles. Not to mention the Grid itself."

"Eh, don't worry," Delta moaned, leaning back in his chair. "I can help that. You have an entire Rebellion of politically skilled Basics behind you. Bet that takes off some stress." Delta brought himself to sitting position and glanced out the window. "Whoa! Check that out!" Flynn did what Delta said, and gaped at the sight.

"No way..." Flynn activated the comm, and spoke into it. "Tron, this is Flynn. Are you seeing this?"

"Yeah." Tron's voice was scrambled in the partially destroyed communicator. "Is this... more ISOs?" Flynn shook his head. "They have ISO properties, such as having splintered coding, but they functions, according to scanners. But that's not the real mind melt. They have multiple functions." Tron's crackled expression of shock across meters of air was visible through audio. Flynn spoke again. "Essentially, they're a fusion of ISOs and Basics. Evolutionary Algorithms. EVOs."

Delta nodded in mild understanding, before checking the sensors. "Uh, Flynn, there are six one-man Light Jets approaching fast." Delta skimmed over the readout, then turned back to Flynn. "These Jets are outdated by a long time. The last time they were in large-scale use was in TC401, when I was the Renegade." Delta typed in several key codes and sighed. "They aren't responding to our messages, but their comm signal isn't anywhere close to CLU's forces. In fact, it's an even more outdated sequence. It's a patch that's been out of use since before the Revolution era."

"Try and get them to respond." Tron's voice came over the comm. Delta nodded and began speaking into a comm unit. "Attention, unidentified vessels. You are engaging in conflict with civilians-" Delta jumped back, watching as a familiar face appeared as a hologram. Light Lines covered his entire face, leaving a minuscule amount of coded flesh. The complete opposite of CLU's idea of perfection.

"I doubt we're attacking civilians, Renegade," the program cackled, "Or should I call you Delta?" Beck glared, his eyes slitting. The program cackled yet again. "I dare you. Come and get me, _Beck_." The hologram closed, letting the Beck in Delta think for a minute. He stood up, having decided to settle the many scores

"Excuse me a minute," Delta said, picking up Paige, and placing her in his seat. A button, set on an auto-timer, activated the boarding ramp. Flynn looked back behind his seat and gaped at Delta's actions.

"Beck! What the hell are you doing?" Delta's helmet clasped it's owner's face, hiding the rage and sorrow in Beck's face.

"Sorry, Flynn. I need some space to tie up some loose ends." Flynn gaped even more than before, to see his comrade jump out the Light Jet. Delta leaped out of the Jet, towards one of his greatest foes ever.

"I won't let you live this time, Cyrus!" Delta shouted over the false wind, diving into the path of the first Renegade.

The battle was on.

* * *

A/N: So, yeah. Paige and Flynn are back, and Flynn will be added into the Main Cast for the rest of the fic. Once she's awake, Paige will be redeemed and given the same position. I'm going to be alternating between the User world and the Grid until Chapter 17, so hold your seats until then. Thanks to PrincessKai317's reviews, which mean a lot to me, and I'm sure I'll be recieving a lot more from SonicFighter. Favorites and Followers and loved, and stay awesome.

By the way, going back to posting parts of a chapter for this one, but I'll work on that habit. But I'll leak that one of the last chapters will contain lyrics from "This is War".

Shout Out to PrincessKai317 and 2theSky on their fanfics, which they are doing a fabulous job on.


	16. Chapter 16: The Judgement Theorem

Chapter 16: The Judgement Theorem

Beck's's hand spread out in a vampire-like style of flight, and allowed him to fall back behind the Light Jet oppressors. A baton, held in his right hand, pulled open to show his own Light Jet, updated with the latest upgrades available. He had even upgraded the Jet's speed and drag himself, allowing for better capabilities than CLU could have only dreamed of.

The machine guns, positioned on each wing, blazed with laser bullets streaking towards the oppression. One bullet managed to make contact with a program's wing, causing him/her to spiral out of control. A large splash of energy signified his/her deresolution, unless there was a last minute ejection from the controls. As Delta looked in front, a large maze of Light Ribbons appeared out of nowhere, trapping him within a three-dimensional labyrinth.

"You can't keep me in here forever, Cy!" Beck yelled as he fired his Light Jet's machine guns. The Light Walls trapping him exploded into shards of data, with it's occupant screaming out of the mess. A bullet from Beck's machine guns struck a Light Jet, which fell to the ground and exploded seconds after it's pilot ejected.

"I'm all right, master Cyrus," the program shouted, "I'll be back up in-" The program was rudely cut off as Beck's machine guns shattered the program into nothing. "Not if I have anything to say about it." Beck growled behind his helmet as the four remaining jets, led by Cyrus himself, chased Beck to where he couldn't hide.

The Outland Canyons were the epitome of the Outlands themselves: A dangerous, hostile place where no program had dared go. Anybody who made it this far was either extremely crazy or extremely lucky. Beck and his clique were neither, only heavily prepared and the best at their function. At this point, Beck was considering his luck was at it's prime as he grazed metal pipes, sticking out of the canyon walls. Cyrus and his followers, however, were not so lucky, being judged by losing two of their comrades in the maze of industrial pollution and remains.

"I'm not scared of you, Cyrus!" Beck shouted to nobody in particular, drawing his Light Jet back into the baton. His left hand grasped the neck of Cyrus. Once an expendable Sentry in CLU's ranks, he had turned into an augmented and super-program, almost unstoppable at his program struggled against the weight, forcing his Jet into the baton. Gravity took the Jet's place, forcing the brawling programs onto the ground.

"Not bad, Renegade," Cyrus cackled, "I see you've improved from last time. But if you believe that you can stop me and my followers, then you might need a reality check." Beck smirked before pointing up. Cyrus gaped as his remaining followers were lured into the very maze they created, by the two Light Jets, and smashed inwards by the Light Walls.

"NO!" Cyrus yelled, drawing his disk in anger. Beck couldn't tell where the blade would land, but it would probably be a deresolution point. He dodged, but the disk dodged with him, gashing his shoulder. Beck growled, his katana blocking the next blow.

"Is that the best you can do, Cyrus?" Beck mocked to his predecessor, "Come on! The Cyrus I know wouldn't give up this easily!" Cyrus roared in fury, tackling Beck into the cavern below them. The circuitry if their Light Suits, their disks, and Beck's katana were the only things that allowed them any illumination.

"I don't think I told you. I never use my full strength." Cyrus drew his disk, Beck using the darkness to his advantage. Every disk has a shatterpoint, better known as a deflection area. If one were to use this shatterpoint, then the disk could derezz it's owner, in a hideous twist of fate.

"Hey, Cyrus!" Beck shouted, from a large cliff, "Bet ya can't hit me from here!" Cyrus accepted the challenge, throwing his disk. It would be a mistake, his first ever. And his last.

Beck's sword hit the target square. The disk's shatterpoint. And it flew right back to Cyrus and landed in his hand.

Moments after striking into his chest.

And so it finally ended. Cyrus, the Green Goblin to Beck's Spider-Man, was finally in pieces. No more would the Grid know of a deranged program who sought to destroy everything that existed in their digital realm.

Cyrus looked at his rival. The title of Renegade truly didn't belong to him. Not if he couldn't beat Beck. Satisfied that he had been beaten by a worthy opponent, Cyrus spread his arms and closed his eyes as he derezzed. His opponent watched until the pixels faded in with the darkness, then climbed back out to his group.

* * *

"Welcome back to Argon," Beck murmured, hands gripping the steering yoke of the Light Jet. Lights once again glimmered in the city, a sign that the Coalition had begun rebuilding the metropolis. Paige had woken up, and had been ordered by Flynn to take control of communications, without being told Beck was onboard with her. "Guess Able took the initiative. Though, a building doesn't replace a program."

"I can fix that," Flynn said, rising from his seat, "I can use a high vantage point to send a reconstruction signal into Argon. It'll revive every program in the vicinity. Think of it as reversed genocide." Flynn's happy-go-lucky grin looked all too familiar to a Cheshire Cat. "We're one step closer to bringing back the balance.

"I know a place," Delta said, steering the Jet in the direction of a place he knew all to well, "It's the highest mountain I can think of. If I'm correct, then the code wave should reach up to Argon Port."

"Alright," Flynn muttered, signaling the other Light Jet to follow their's, "You know the area best. Lead the way."

* * *

"I can't believe it," Delta murmured, stepping into his old safehouse, "It feels like I was in here just last cycle. Looks like it, too." Delta couldn't have been anymore correct. Nothing was broken. Tron and Anon gazed at the sheer size of the simulation chamber, hundreds of meters in every possible directions.

"This is a collection of things I obtained over my career as Tron," Beck solemnly mused. A long line of vehicles awaited the group of five as they entered the Garage of the safe house. The first thing they saw was an antique. A second generation Light Cycle, one of the same model that Flynn used, was propped next to the four-man Light Roadster, red circuits aligned with the interior bluish-white. A 4.5th gen Light Bike, the most common in Argon, was blackened by the lack of a rider, next to the equally cold and dark Light Crawler and Snowmobile.

"These are weapons and other tools. We used them to sabotage and destroy Occupation vehicles and soldiers." Boxes of Light Grenades, Smoke Bombs, and Light Tazers were ordered neatly in rows and stacks, joined by a shelf of batons. Six sets of staffs, katanas, Light Jets and Cycles, and Syringes were lined up in five rows. Tron 2.0's coding center allowed the clone to create viruses to disrupt Tank Arrows, cut off code circulation on Recognizers, and son on.

Beck, curious as always under the Delta mask, poked around the shelf of batons, while the others went to find room and board. His finger slid along the polymer, pushing force until a small button clicked. Behind it, hidden, was the disk. The moniker, the emblem of the servant of the Grid's Messiah. White coding and white circuitry held half of Beck's disk, the other of the fake Tron.

Beck pulled his disk, and the Tron disk, and pulled them apart. The disks were reassembled, given back to the original owners. Beck held the one disk in his hand, and went upstairs.

"What... what happened here?" Tron stuttered, looking around the room. The sight was revolting. Glass was shattered, programmed limbs discarded, and a damaged healing chamber awaited them. It looked like a horror movie had come into the place, and renovated the hub of the safe house to it's own preference.

Beck looked at the disk, as a tear slid down his face. He had been a coward, running when he should have fought. But then again, if he had stayed, Bismuth wouldn't be fighting, and there would be no Delta. He realized there that the Renegade was weak. He, Beck the mechanic, Delta the Revolutionist, would have to be brave. Make the right decisions.

He knew right where to start.

* * *

A/N: So yeah. Bet you saw the Spider-Man reference. Only did that one because I'm a Spidey fan, and I thought it was a great comparison between Beck and Cyrus. But now, I think that Cyrus has earned the right to be let go in the Tron Universe.

As usual, the chapter will be constantly updated, and other things will be done to increase the length.

Paige does live. END OF LINE.

Next: Special Episode: Goodbye Renegade


	17. Chapter 17: Goodbye Renegade

Chapter 17: Goodbye Renegade

He listened to the Gridcast, filling a thin box with a handle. Chunks of code held down the disk that he used to wear half of his time. The Gridcast reception was weak in the Outlands, but was strengthened by their altitude. The speaker crackled the mostly intelligible words as he finished filling the suitcase.

"It's been a hundred cycles since the last appearance of the once controversial, now infamous program known as the Renegade. Many citizens of Argon were harmed due to his reign of terror, and now the Renegade has apparently gone into hiding. Now citizens have begun to take inspiration from a new moniker, the Delta. Many have claimed that the Renegade and Tron were two different programs, as the Renegade was last seen wearing a white light suit. One thing is for sure, however, that the citizens of Argon overwhelmingly agree that they will be better off without the Renegade."

Beck left the safehouse, donning his mechanic uniform and driving his bike out of the safehouse.

"_They're right, of course_," Beck thought, as he maneuvered his Light Cycle through the once again crowded streets of Argon. "_Too bad nobody mentioned being a hero is an impossible game to win._"

Mara went about repairing buildings, assigned by the Coalition to head the repair campaign in Argon. Buildings were coming up in mere hours or even minutes, repairs were going quite fast and greatly ahead of schedule, but something was off in her mind. She was devastated by the Renegade's disappearance. He had given her so much hope and inspiration, only to disappear and go into hiding. She was left empty, like her purpose in life was gone.

"_Some people will disintegrate all of their faith in you. It'll be over before it starts. Others.._"

Zed strolled through the garage, observing the mechanics upgrading city power systems. Like Mara, he was crushed by Beck's disappearance, rarely speaking to anybody, even Mara. The two, along with Able, had led the effort of reconstruction,, only to be held back by their mascot's sudden lack of existence. Zed was worse off than Mara, cold, depressed, and harsh to anybody he deemed unworthy of speaking Beck's name or the Renegade's aloud.

"_Others will hold a grudge_." Beck's Light Bike passed the garage, where Paige was looking for her friend. She had gone into the city to find him, and apologize for the mistakes she made as a soldier. Now, she was without her first true friend, and was seeking solace with Beck's other friends. "_Not like I can blame them. They deserve to hate me for at least a few of the things I've done._" Beck's mind drifted back to Cutler, a friend he met in a death match. Now a derezzed follower of CLU, his remains were scattered in the Renegade Memorial, erected in honor of Beck's alter ego.

"_And some programs will try to give me so much..._" Beck's mind sailed off again, just as he entered the Argon Port area. He remembered the days when he, Mara and Zed would skydive off of Argon Bridge, with no curfew hanging over their heads. "_... Only to lose everything that they worked so hard for."_

His bike skidded to a halt, near the edge of one of the docks, then derezzing into a baton. It's rider, switched back into his Delta uniform, picked up the suitcase and walked to the edge. "_I can't let anybody suffer anymore. Nobody has to live with a chance of deresolution._"Delta knelt on the ground, opening the suitcase, taking one last look at the gleaming disk. White surrounded the edge, reflecting Beck's face back at him. "_It's a burden. One that I simply won't_ _be able to keep stable._" Beck closed the suitcase and walked to the edge of the platform. A streetlight zoned in on the former Renegade, watching him as he stared at the endless possibilities that were the Sea of Simulation. "_And that's why I need to say.._"

He threw the suitcase into the water. A loud splash came from the impact point, a large ripple the only thing remaining from the position of the suitcase.

"_Goodbye, Renegade._" The ripples swam towards the port, and as Beck stared into the ripples, he saw the Renegade. But he knew, deep down, that though he was still the Renegade, he could never embrace that part of his destiny.

A cluster of feet moving towards him caused Beck to flinch and turn around. Beck, in his Delta uniform, turned to see four programs coming towards him. Three of them mechanics, one a medic. Paige grasped him with such force that Beck nearly went purple from the pressure. Zed, Mara and Able also joined in, Beck hugging all of them as well.

The five walked away, far from the uniform that Beck once wore.

It was time to start his life again as Delta. It was time to end the fight, once and for all.

* * *

A/N: So Beck has decided his destiny. The Renegade has been retconned into Delta. I thought that since Beck had become Delta, the Renegade identity would deserve a good end. Favorites, Followers and reviews are loved, and another shout out to Princess Kai for her awesome reviews and stories, as well as 2theSky for their stories.

Next: A reunion with the Light Guard leads to Beck investigating an area of Bismuth for General Flauge.


	18. Chapter 18: Killer Instinct

Chapter 18: Killer's Instinct

Tron, Beck, Anon and Flynn were scuttling around the safe house, looking for anything valuable that remained in the ruins of the massive base. So far, only parts of Tron 2.0's healing chamber, a mechanical recoder, and the simulation chamber were all that remained of the area.

"Used to be fun while I lived here," Beck said, closing the door to the garage, "Now it's a shell of deresolution. It scares me." Tron looked at Beck and frowned. He had always been fun to be around during the days of the Coalition's humble beginnings, but now... it just felt like the war had sucked all of the happiness out of him.

"Fair enough reason to stay away from here," Tron said, closing a container filled with spare batons, "Tell you what. You and Paige go back into Argon and have some fun. Meet with your friends, do what you did before CLU took hold of Argon. You've earned it. Many times over, in fact."

"Actually.." Beck trailed off. He smiled, chuckled a sliver of a laugh, then slammed down the lid of his crate, "Paige is due to leave for Gallium next cycle. I'm going to join her there for a few more cycles, then wrap things up in Argon. Maybe move on to Bismuth, clean up what's left of the Occupation forces there."

"Alright." Flynn grinned, then patted Beck on the shoulder, holding Beck in a bear hug, "Just take care of yourself. And keep in touch."

"I will," Beck said, "And once I'm done in Gallium, I'll come right back." Beck gave an equally large smile the first in many cycles, and held out a baton. "I promise."

* * *

"I'm glad Beck got his circuits back in the right place," Tron said. Coalition forces had begun recruiting programs in downtown Argon for the ranks and specialized forces in the Coalition, and using Argon Port as a supply base. "How long has it been since I saw him smile?"

"Maybe twenty cycles, or more," Anon reported in a secretary-like fashion, "Just be happy that he's smiling again." Anon watched as a crate tipped over, with a program scrambling to pik them up. "Careful with those crates, Linux. The batons in there are expensive, so if you break 'em, you buy 'em." Distracted by another program, Anon picked up the data pad handed to him, and frowned behing his helmet, where nobody could see his disappointment.

"Great," Tron muttered, looking over Anon's shoulder to read the report, "General Flauge moved his Sentries into Bismuth. With any luck, the reinforcements will still be in a staging phase. With the staging phase gathering every troop in the city to assist in the staging area, we could just send in _Indomitable_ and take them out in one fell swoop."

"Sure, sure, we could do that," Flynn sarcastically commented, walking in on the scene. To disguise his identity from the Coalition, he constantly donned a helmet similar to Anon's, "and risk blowing up the citizens with them. Or, on the other hand, we could send a small, precision-trained team and take out the base individually."

"Oh, all right." Tron remained unamused at the idea of a long, drawn-out fight, "But only because you created us."

"Well, both of you have a point. You're going to have to create a compromise." Anon held up a roster of programs, and spoke again, this time scanning the report. "We barely have enough troops to man _Indomitable_, on a _skeleton_ crew, and the rest are busy on double shifts. We'd be lucky if anybody other than administrative staff would be free to go."

"You're forgetting," Tron said, "We're on administrative staff. We could send ourselves, and leave one of us in charge. That way, we end the fight in Bismuth, and obtain even more troops."

"But you're also forgetting something," Anon said, "I can send the Light Guard from security in Jetrona to assist you. It'll take a few cycles to get from Jetrona to Bismuth, so lay low for a bit." Tron sighed, and drew a baton from his thigh.

"Fine, but be ready to clean up after me, and don't keep me waiting." Tron rezzed his bike and climbed on. "I have a reputation to uphold."

* * *

"Ah, hold up, guys," Flad gestured, signaling his fellow Light Guard to follow him to a computer console, to respond to the encrypted message in front of them. "Another message from Anon in Argon. He wants us to head to Bismuth to assist Tron and Beck in the Usurping there."

"Beck's going to meet us in the city boundaries," Pyro monotoned, scanning the order, "Seems reason enough to get over there, double time."

"Good call," Hax barked, mounting his Light Cycle, "Japter, Sivet, you stay here and maintain control of the city. Riot, Flad, Pyro, you're with me." And within two nanocycles, all that remained of the four Light Guard was group of Cycle tracks, pointed in the direction of fair, yet war-burned Bismuth.

* * *

_Three Cycles later..._

The two Sentries standing guard at the northern gate of Bismuth City were shocked when the Light Cycle came within distance of the horizon. Nobody ever passed through the ruins that were once Argon City, usually taking an aquatic transport over the Sea of Simulation, or otherwise entering through the other three city gates. But what set the traveler apart was the four small, glowing whit squares forming a 'T' on the program's chest.

"Halt, program!" One of the Sentries orderly shouted to the rider, "By the will of CLU, you are under violation of Law 14, clause 8-" As the Sentry began the speech of violation, the rider shoved his bike into his baton, using the momentum to soar through the air. His fist swung through the air, knocking the Sentry unconscious, all-the-while leaving a large crack in the glass helmet.

Tron landed in a kneeling position, rubbing his wrist and speaking through his helmet in a garbled expression. "Seriously, ow! What are sentries made of these days?!" Feeling a large swing of wind, Tron ducked, then swung his disk at the staff-wielding Sentry. Taken by complete surprise, the Sentry gave a gape of horror, eyes blocked from view, and shattered to the floor.

Tron didn't look back as he escaped into the city limits.

* * *

Beck looked at the small disk station in the temporary asylum that was his apartment. His disk glowed brighter with every step he took towards the station. It was time to leave. But some last minute adjustments needed to be made.

Like every baton, every step towards perfection required a break. Updates were important to the current situation of Adapt-and-survive. Beck just hoped they would be enough.

* * *

_Two Cycles later..._

A silent figure, masked by a helmet and minimal, white- dyed circuits, slipped a grenade through the laser barrier. An alarm blared, prompting the program to hide as two platoons of Sentries rushed to the watch tower. The figure unmasked his face, denting his thumb into the detonator. A large explosion crippled the tower, taking the entire Sentry force with it.

Tron, using the distraction to his advantage, slipped through the deactivated entryway and planted grenades on tanks and recognizer launchpad hangings.

"Say your prayers, punks!" Tron said, grabbing a Sentry and smashing his head into a Light Tank. "Tron's back for revenge." Before another motion could be made, another figure sprinted out of the shadows, wielding two Light Swords. Tron observed the program, keeping a close eye on his circuitry. Before the program sliced a Sentry into two, Tron caught a long, singular circuit bend into a "D". Tron gasped as he sa the mark.

Beck was back.

Tron grabbed his Light Staff, stunning more Sentries to allow Beck to chop the disabled programs into several pieces. Beck re-factored his Katanas, instead drawing his disk and semi- automatic.

"Well, what took you so long?" Beck grumbled, spewing bullets into the crowd of Sentries, while slicing the rest with his disk. Tron unmasked himself, smacking Sentries into the ground with his Staff. He replied, "Hellooooo? Didn't you see my trail of carnage and mayhem?"

"Oh, that was you?" Beck smirked from behind the helmet, using his trademark grin. "I thought it was the Bismuth Rebels."

"Trust me," Tron said, knocking down the last of the Sentries, "If there weren't any civilians around here, this place would be in flames. Every Sentry would be derezzed, if I didn't have you to keep me in check."

"Well, be happy that I arrived." Beck grinned as his helmet unravelled from his head. The two programs surveyed the damage they had created. "I doubt the Occupation will be stable by the time we're done here." The moment Beck sheathed his disk, a loud splintering noise came from the bridge of the carrier ship. The two turned to see General Flauge standing on the edge of the Retaliation-class carrier, escorted by five Black Guards. Pure orange, accompanied by simple brown accommodated the circuit lines of their masks and Light Suits.

"Programs," Flauge bellowed, glaring downwards at Beck and Tron, "You have fought valiantly. But the odds are weighed against you. Surrender, and you will leave be permitted to leave unscathed. Persist, and you shall face the full might of CLU."

"Oh, so by full might, you mean all of these guys?" Beck said, gesturing to the Sentries either dead or incapacitated, "You might want to reconsider your odds."

"Very well," Flauge once again shouted, "You have chosen your option poorly. Guards, dispose of these enemies of the state." Seconds later, all five Black Guard surrounded the two programs.

"This can't be too hard," Beck said, back-to-back with Tron. The program soon regretted his word choice as all five drew their disks and a secondary, miniature blade. "Or, maybe it will be."

* * *

A/N: As always, never completed a chapter in one day. I like a cliffhanger effect. But, on the other, more optimistic hand, Beck is back to happy town, reunited with Paige, and will definitely return, at some point that isn't today. Also, 4,000 views! Thank you all SO MUCH!

With some assistance from PrincessKai317 over PM, I have decided that a sequel will be in place after the... well, Aftermath. The story will revolve on a regular program, learning to embrace his destiny as the next Renegade. Kudos to Kai as well for the amazing support, as well as the other people in the Tron community for their support. Good luck, other writers, and remember, as long as Tron lives, there is still FanFiction.


	19. Chapter 19: United We Stand, Pt 1

Chapter 19: United We Stand, Pt.1

Anon and Flynn, shocked beyond belief, rushed to the edge of Argon Port, to watch fires erupt across the upper floor of their newest construction project. The Triskelion, as they referred to it, was apparently under attack. Anon typed in a command sequence to pull up security footage. The result was fire. Blue flames licked at the unconcious and dead forms of Coalition programs.

"Corporal!" Anon shouted to another soldier, "Get me contact with the Commander stationed aboard!" The response was a "Yes, sir!" as the communications station began homing in on the comm signal.

"Commander!" Anon rushed to the hologram of a heavily-injured program. "What's going on there?!"

"It's one of CLU's generals, sir!" The program bellowed over the roar of fire and screaming programs, "He only has a small amount of programs, but they're heavily armed and tearing the Triskelion apart!"

"Get me a one-man Light Jet over there!" Anon growled through his teething rage. "I'll handle this..."

* * *

"On your left, Tron!" Delta shouted, dodging the disk of a Black Guard. Tron followed the advice, swinging to the left to avoid the swing of a shoto.

"They're better than usual!" Delta grunted, wincing as a Black Guard uppercut him in the stomach. "They must have perfected the Upgrade Weapon! Find a way to break their disk docks."

"No time!" Tron said, kicking the Guards into a dog pile, "Time to light this place up!" Throwing in two large Light Charges, the two sprinted just inches away from the blast's radius, thrown into the hull of the carrier ship. The two watched as the body parts of the Black Guard splayed on the floor, joined by shards of metal, concrete, plastic and coding.

"Flauge!" Delta shouted, watching the enraged general retreat into the Pacificator. The former Renegade saw this trait in all of CLU's generals: retreat further into the ship, then summon more lackeys to keep them occupied. Beck eerily remembered these tactics from his Renegade days. "Flauge! Get back here and face me like a real program!" Flauge heard the insult and turned back, his eyes flashing a cleansed and pure red, the kind of red that signifies evil.

"I think you made Taurus here mad," Tron gulped, climbing up and wincing from his wounds. Beck stood up, more or less fine, and stared eye-to-eye at the General. Before another movement could be initiated, the program vanished into thin air.

"Wha?!..." Delta belched, trying to stomach this revelation, "Okay, so he's a digital chameleon... he's gotta have some vulnerability." A bolt of lightning shot out of nowhere, striking Beck and knocking him down. Delta stood up, rubbing the back of his head in pain.

"Oh, so you can shoot lightning, too? Quick question... Did you used to work at a power plant?" A large bulb appeared, shooting further more bolts of electricity. Beck dodged the incoming projectiles with a series of acrobatic stunts, using his built in algorithms to determine the lightning's landing area.

An elevator opened, with Beck seizing the dash to rush Flauge, now knowing the General's location. "No escape this time!" Delt shouted, before running smack into the lift door.

"He's taken a lift and decloaked," Tron said, reading a life energy scanner, "He's heading to the generator room. Which can only mean one thing.."

"He doesn't generate his own electricity," Delta said, ripping the elevator doors open with brute strength, "So that means there's a simple solution: blow the generator and play keep-away until he runs out of reserve power.

"Or," Tron wisely interrupted, "We could wait, and while he searches for us, we hold the generator room hostage."

"We don't have time," Beck grunted, leaping into the shaft, "Do what you want, but I have a job to do."

* * *

_The User World, Los Angeles, California, ENCOM Tower, January 18__th__, 2011, 9:00pm..._

Sam Flynn grunted as he stretched his legs. Despite the fact that he was the head CEO of a multinational corporation, the headquarters of said company couldn't bother to try and buy some new desk chairs. On top of this painful seating arrangement, the board meeting was long and arduous. They had been discussing the creation of the next Flynn Operating System, OS 13. Sam honestly thought they were crazy, having just released ENCOM OS 12. Ed Dillinger, the son of his own father's rival, was competent enough to allow Sam an opinion on the matter.

Sam chose to wait a month before publicly announcing the idea, and to start drafting the Operating System two days before the announcement. Most of the board seemed pleased with the release plan, but were not as excited at the price of the OS 13. The price for ENCOM OS 12 was skyrocketing compared to older products, over what many were willing to spend on a computer application. Flynn Jr. decided that they would cut the price by a quarter.

"After all, quantity is better than quality in business," Sam stated, talking like a true businessman. "If we sell more of OS 13, and the public buys an amount of OS 13 that amount to the same price as OS 12, we've already made profit, and gained public trust." Alan Bradley, a longtime comrade and supporter of Sam's ideals and methods, encouraged the idea, which pretty much lit a green light with his position of Chairman of the Board.

Tonight, however, Sam was more into the past, on ENCOM's past projects, than a mere Operating System. One of three basements in ENCOM's headquarters, several projects that were initiated in the founding of the company, were stowed here in case of need to restore.

"Mr. Flynn," Dr. Greenwood, the top researcher in ENCOM's 1980's tech, stated while looking into a microscope, "I trust the board meeting went well. Good. I believe you are here to research a project that your father supported? Very well." Greenwood led a speechless Sam towards a large cylindrical tube, a cracked lens on the end, pointed at a small table, with a tablet installed and bolted into the table, which was weighed onto the floor.

"There you are, Mr. Flynn," Dr. Greenwood said, writing some notes on his clipboard, "I assume you know how to use the Digitizing Laser? Good. I shall leave you to your own devices." With that, Greenwood left a stunned, bemused CEO in the dusty Laser Room.

* * *

A/N: Thought I would add a bit of Spider-Man with the smart-aleck quotes into Tron and Delta. Oh, yeah, review and tell me if you think I should refer to Beck as himself or his alter-ego Delta.

Reviews, Favorites and Followers are loved, "hint-hint", and thanks for all of your pleasant support.

Next: Beck comes to find himself at the mercy of his emotions, torn between striking down Flauge, or allowing him to live. Chapter 20 will be a play on United we Stand, Divided we Fall.

The Inevitable edit; July 31st: StarSpangled, a guest reviewer, stated that Beck never killed programs, and that this moral is a major plot point. This is very true, but please remember that when Beck joined the Coalition, he joined an all-out war. Sentries aren't afraid to kill a weaker program, and this fits into the category of Natural Selection. I'm sorry if I made Beck sound like he enjoyed killing, but here's the thing: Beck is scared of killing. But because he wants to make his fight worthwhile, he decided to rewrite his fear into killing innocents. That's why he has a more aggressive personality than in Uprising. Thank you, StarSpangled and Ann Lee for your awesome guest reviews.


	20. Chapter 20: Together We Fight, Pt 2

Chapter 20: Together We Fight, Pt 2.

"I can't believe that this is happening," Anon muttered to himself, as his Light Jet sending water particles into the air. "The moment we start building a major project, the Occupation always manages to sabotage it. And when we try to save it, they always get in the way-" Anon was cut off as bullets pierced the sound barrier, and noticed five occupation-aligned Light Jets screaming towards him. "Seriously?! Am I cursed or something?!" Pushing his engines to the maximum, Anon allowed the Light Jets to chase him through the incomplete Triskelion structure. Two exploded, failing to make a single-file line into a ventilation duct, while one more caught on fire from the ravaged splinters of flaming metal. The last two managed to copy his movements and chase him out into the open sky, bullets flailing uselessly into the sky.

Anon then let his Light Jet convert back into a baton, ending with his hand on the machine gun of the enemy Light Jet. In a desperate attempt to shake him off, the Black Guard at the wheel fired his weapons, mistakenly destroying his comrade. Flying through the ball of flames, Anon magnetized his boots and started strolling towards the pilot.

Alarmed, the Black Guard started barrel-rolling his Light Jet, hoping to shake Anon loose. Anon, whose magnetics kept him level with the Jet, just shrugged and yelped as the Black Guard shut off his boot magnets. Anon gripped the hull of the Light Jet, using his hands to swing himself up to the top again, his boot meeting the head the Black Guard.

Anon stared at the unconscious Guard, letting go of the Jet, and activating his own. The Jet plummeted and exploded at the base of the blazing Triskelion, creating even more flames to join the others. Anon grunted, wincing as he moved a torn muscle too fast. His Light Jet failed underneath him, derezzing into splattered code. Anon fell through the air, caught by another Light Jet underneath him.

"Good thing I was in the neighborhood, boss!" Pyro hooted over the roar of his engines, allowing the System Monitor to look behind the afterburner. Three more Light Jets, also dyed white in circuit systems, were streaming Light Ribbons behind them as well.

"Let me guess," Hax barked, pulling up alongside Pyro's Light Jet, "You wanna take back the Triskelion. That's what we were assigned to do anyway. Let's roll." The four Jets landed vertically on the bridge tower, allowing the five programs to magnetize and observe the calamities below them.

"Users, this is crazy..." Riot whispered, gripping a Light Staff baton in his hand and glaring at the flames, "Unbelievable.. Wait..." His attention was distracted by the hint of red, along with programs sapped of energy. "No... no, no no no..."

Biocable, tinted in a blood-red shade, covered the drained program. Anon grabbed a bottle of energy and forced it down the program's throat. The program coughed, spitting out the energy he couldn't swallow.

"You work on the Triskelion, correct?" Flad interrogated, allowing the program to recover, who nodded. "Do you know who's leading the assault?"

"It was... it was..." The program choked, falling into the depths of unconscious, "... a slim, tall program. He could sap programs of their energy and use it to fire biocables that could change forms..."

"You'll be fine, buddy," Hax said, using his Light Sword to cut the program free. "I'll find a transport and evacuate as many programs as I can. You go on and find whoever did this." A loud explosion followed Hax as he scaled the tower again.

"I don't think that'll be a problem," Riot said, looking at a sliver of a trail of fire and wreckage, "And judging by the program's description, I think I know who it is... General Carnage."

* * *

Beck slid down the elevator shaft, using his sword to slow his fall. Tron may have been right, suggesting to wait for Flauge to come find _them_, instead trying to find a digital chameleon that could shoot lightning. But his instinct told him that he had done the right thing, as always.

Some programs under his command were scared of him, wondering why he was so code-thirsty. It wasn't even that he wanted to kill. But in order to hide that instinct, to make sure he lived through the war, he had to kill, and bury it underneath the bodies he murdered in self-defense. And to top it off, to hide the guilt of the murders he caused, he would crack his ridiculous and crazy jokes.

When he was younger, not traumatized by war, he would have a moral not to derezz. It was part of his Renegade Codex, that he would never take a life. But as Argon was decimated by Dyson, he realized that simply injuring the Sentries in CLU's ranks wouldn't do. Lives had to be taken, and he took down the guilt. Tron had similar beliefs, and it was usually Beck who kept his mentor in check. But with Tron 2.0 derezzed, he had nobody to keep himself in control. He allowed himself to be absorbed by instinct. He allowed himself to be feral, and to let his

Every life he took... Cyrus, Tesler, tens of hundreds of Sentries, all of them made him reclusive, made him stoic, brought him closer over the edge. But he pushed back, making sure not one movement was out of place, that he could remain the same as always. Alive.

But right now, as he dove in, he knew that his Renegade persona was gone. In his place was a costume he invented, for the sole purpose of giving it back to Tron. His white costume was gone, fed to the Sea of Simulation. He was back in black, for the rest of his life maybe. Delta was his moniker, his idea, and he was going to test his limits.

The generator door opened, hissing at his entrance. The shadows blended with his suit, allowing him to sneak in unnoticed. Flauge turned around, coating himself in strands of thick, sky blue lightning. The generator creaked under the pressure it withstood.

"I know you're here, Delta." Flauge growled in a harsh, less honorable voice, "Your abilities of stealth do not confuse nor frighten me." Grid sweat rolled down Flauge's face, a combination of his very real fear and attempt to concentrate.

Another sound was made, and Flauge made a motion to figure out what had just landed on his head. He found a Black Guard's ID Disk jammed onto his helmet. The next thing he noticed was Delta standing on a table full of viruses and chemicals. A vial of Chemical VT-4350.Y was thrown in his face.

"Ooooh!" Beck gleefully squealed at the picture, "I got two rings on the bottle! Wha-what do I win?!"

"You!" Flauge growled, the chemicals on his face hissing a deep red.

"I win me?" Beck curiously pondered for a handful of seconds, then looked back at Flauge. "Meh.. still doesn't make any sense." Flauge grew redder by the second, taking in every insult Beck threw at him.

"Prototype 45, come at once." Flauge regained his composure and signaled for a test subject. Beck watched as a hunchbacked, very short program stepped into the mixture of combat.

"Ugh... eew..." Beck shriveled, "That is the ugliest Igor I have ever seen. Is that an Igor? Still.. ugh!"

"Enough of this!" Flauge roared, "We'll see how long you can be a hero after this attack. 45, initiate program 97."

"Nah, heroes wear capes," Beck wise-cracked, but shuddered as he was blinded by a flash of LED light, then tackled to the ground by none other than Dyson. "No! Dyson's... dead! Or.. you're not Dyson! You're just some program genetically augmented to change into different programs."

"That's not all, Delta!" Flauge cackled, "Prototype 45 can change into your own worst fear... your past!" Another flash of light and Beck saw his own face. In the Renegade costume.

The reflection grinned evilly, a glare Beck remembered from his time wearing the Upgrade Prototype. The real Beck's face turned from a wisp of joker to a frown of concentration. A mask slid over the faces of both Becks and the fight commenced.

* * *

_**A/N: So there you are, how do you like it?**_

_**Beck: Hey, why are you sipping a martini, in a bathrobe instead of helping me fight a clone of myself?!**_

_**Prototype 45: It's called illusion.**_

_**Beck: Well, if I could kill Flauge, I would, but **__**somebody's**__** taking forever!**_

_**Tron: Hey! Don't say I didn't tell you so!**_

_**Me: *Sips the martini*: Guys, it's just sparkling cider! Jeez. Anyway, sorry about the squabbling children.**_

Next: Paige interferes with the fight in replacement of Tron, who is preparing the endgame technique. Anon, Flynn and the Light Guard begin hunting down Carnage, and Sam begins to find his way back to the Grid.

Thanks to PrincessKai317 and guest reviewers Ann Lee and StarSpangled, who gave me the idea to work Beck's emotional conflict into the chapter. As always, when there's fanfiction, I'll be in it.


	21. Chapter 21: Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall

21: Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall

Beck grimaced as his head slammed into the wall. The Renegade imposter, 45, was gaining the upper hand. It was only a matter of time before either he or Prototype 45 was eliminated from the fight. And at this rate, it looked like he would be the one removed. He used a forceful kick, and the Renegade imposter pushed it back with delicate ease.

Every kick he made, 45 blocked. Every punch he threw, 45 gracefully avoided. It was like he was actually fighting himself. And it was probably true

"Users... How much do you know about me?..." Delta gasped, as his Light Sword baton lost it's grip from his hand. "It's like I'm fighting... well, me."

"I know more about you than you would think," 45 hissed, unmasking himself to reveal his eyes to be pitch black, "Your fighting style, your strategies, your targets, and most important... the ones you care about. Paige, Zed, Mara, Able, Tron. And it's all thanks to Occupation computers."

"Stop!" Beck shouted, pulling out a Light Grenade and pulling the auto timer. The explosion knocked the two apart, Beck chocked, coughing out shards of code, parts of his helmet smashed to pieces. His right eye, mouth, and splinters of hair were revealed through large cracks in his mask.

"You won't go near them!" Beck shouted, drawing his disk and lunging at Prototype 45, "_You will not hurt them_! YOU WON'T TOUCH THEM!" Beck roared in rage, putting all of his possible strength into every blow he threw. 45 grunted, taking the hits, but still holding ground firmly.

"But I'm you," 45 cackled, showing a long, hissing tone in an equally long tongue, "You can't defeat a program in every way-"

"You're right," a female voice rang throughout the generator and lab. Green circuits shone over Paige's body, her ID disk glowing just as brightly. "But you're not me. You can't beat me and him at the same time."

"Maybe," 45 growled, turning into Paige, and speaking in her tone instead, "But there's nothing stopping me from turning into you-" Another sentence was cut off as Beck's boot made contact with the faux- Paige's head.

"Ha! But you can't take both of us in one form." Beck jeered, holding a Light Sword, "Paige! Take on 45! I'm going for Flauge!" Paige nodded in compliance, moving in on her target. Beck stared, not seeing his target. A loud splintering came from the elevator door, which was torn open and metal parts spread across the floor.

Beck looked back to see Paige fighting the Beck double, then sprung up the shaft.

Sword marks indicated when he had climbed up the elevator shaft. The cables nearest Beck shifted whenever he made a motion. Then again, Flauge was bigger and heavier then Beck, and he could be the one causing the cables to vibrate. A loud, grinding noise caught Beck off guard, and that flaw allowed Flauge to shove Beck into the oncoming elevator.

"Nice drop party you're having, Flauge," Beck grimaced, coughing code, "But next time you should leave drinks. Your guests will stay longer."

"Well, I left goodie bags everywhere," Flauge said, his irises shrunk to bits. "Make one more move, and this whole ship goes boom."

"And if I do stay still?" Beck asked innocently, to which Flauge responded, "Then I still press the red button."

"Yeah, but you didn't notice that I'm on the brink of derezzing," Beck said, "If you kill me now, it would be a hate crime. Go on, I dare you." Delta regretted saying such, when he saw Flauge raise his disc. Another second passed, before a cable grabbed Beck's arm and shot him out of the elevator shaft as the disk shot into the elevator roof.

"Hey, Beck, you look pretty injured," Tron said, beckoning for Delta to remove his helmet. Not that there wasn't much need to; save for a few thin strands, the entire helmet was shattered. The face behind the mask was in much worse condition. Cuts stained his face, code trickling from every slash. A black eye was hosted on his left eyelid. Even more slashes were visible on his Delta uniform, the signature "D" sliced by disk breathing was ravaged, heavy sighs of defeat visible in the cold air. "Beck, you alright?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," Beck ranted sarcastically, "I'm totally fine, being on the brink of death and all. Thanks for the assistance."

"Don't say I didn't tell you so." Tron reprimanded in a way that reminded Beck of Tron 2.0. "You stay here. I'll finish off Flauge. You get to the bridge and activate the self- destruct."

"Isn't that a bit extreme? The blast-"

"Will be contained," Tron said, putting the final word into his sentence, "It'll be sealed in a large force field. It won't hurt any civilians."

"Well, that's a weight off my back," Beck groaned, standing up and wincing from the injuries. "Any luck would be appreciated."

"Tron!" A voice shouted. Tron looked back and saw Japter and Sivet running into the corridor. "We came to assist you when we heard. What happened?"

"No time to explain," Tron sharply barked, "Japter, I want you to get Beck out of the area. Get him to Argon and put him under emergency medical care. Sivet, go to the bridge of the ship and steal all available information from the computers. Then, set the ship to self-destruct."

"Deal," Sivet said, doing a small, somewhat secretive handshake with Japter, "You'll have your explosion in no time." The three teams split up. Japter and Beck turned and headed towards the three-man Light Jet, but not before turning around and shouting, "Hey, Tron!" Tron turned around and saw Beck give him a supporting thumbs-up. "Take down Flauge for me."

Tron smiled, rolled a mask over his face, and slid down the elevator shaft.

* * *

_The User World, Los Angeles, California, ENCOM Tower Laser Department, January 17__th__, 2011, 5:36am_

Sam's eyes sagged from the lack of sleep. He was considering going to a Starbucks for a cup of coffee, but neglected it in favor of completing the correction algorithms. If he stopped, he would be lost within the maze of directions and coding.

Another consideration was calling Jet Bradley from the K department and telling him about what he discovered. Jet had previously gone on an adventure similar to Sam's in the ENCOM mainframe, but Sam believed himself to be smarter than believing that sort of thing; getting transported: preposterous. Not so much anymore. Now that Sam had experienced it, he was ready to believe anything about the ENCOM mainframe Jet told him.

"Almost done with the algorithms," Sam muttered to himself continuously, like a crazed and insane man in a mental institution. He then turned to a voice command input and spoke. "Computer, how much longer until the database can fill in the correct algorithms?" The grid-announcer voice, one that filled the basement, replied, "_At this continued pace, the mainframe can auto-function in exactly one hour, forty-five minutes, and twenty seconds_." Sam groaned and smacked the computer. Dust soared into the sky, forming a falcon of smoke. Sam looked up in frustration and saw a wi-fi signal on his macbook. He remembered what his father said aboard their Solar Sailer solace: "_I thought I put that in my computer._"A light bulb the shape of Apple's logo popped in Sam's head.

Using a long distance hotspot router, Sam was able to acquire the wi-fi signal coming from the computer in the secret basement, below Flynn's Arcade.

"Welcome to Flynn's Arcade, Mr. Flynn," the computer wrote in glowing green letters. "We are transmitting the remaining correction algorithms based on your current state." Sam sighed and leaned back in his much more comfortable chair. A large, flashing red light caught Sam's half closed eye.

"_Warning!_" The Large-Do-Not-Press Light read, "_Coordinates for digitization are unsafe and therefore unusable. Alternative is using Argon Triskelion coordinates. Are these options okay?_" Sam shrugged, not caring where he digitized. As long as he didn't have to manually operate the computer to lock-on to a secure location, it didn't matter. A whirring noise started up, followed by a green, blue and violet flash of light erupting from the room. When Dr. Greenwood entered the digitizing lab, Sam was gone, enveloped by the Grid. Dr Greenwood shrugged, pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose, and went back to his studies.

* * *

"Anon, there's some more programs to your left!" Riot shouted, shooting several Heavy Sentries down with stun bullets, to distract them from the Groundrez Anon smashed in their faces. Anon checked the corridor and it's branched rooms for signs of hostility, then motioned for the Light Guard remaining to follow him.

A hint of red, slipping through the shadows, caught Anon's attention. A face glared from the shadows, and General Carnage stepped into the open. He was the most hideous program that Anon, or any other program for that matter, had ever seen. Instead of a regular helmet, it had a face that resembled that of the Jolly Trickster salute. Underneath the mask, from a few inches of plastic, was red, black and gray. Two shark-like eyes filled his sockets, and a large, drooling mouth similar to the Jolly Trickster mask was his expression. Instead of being straight and orderly, the teeth were sharper, nastier, and yellow, from the large amounts of ingested energy.

"What is with CLU's generals being big, red and ugly?" Anon asked jokingly, though secretly revolted. A large beeping noise, coming from the Grid Announcer, filled every program's ears. General Carnage, for one, was shrieking, parts of his body spiking in response to the noise.

"Attention," the computer bellowed over the Triskelion, "Digitization in progress. Program UB-967945, please stand clear. Program CARNAGE-78T, please stand clear." Carnage didn't bother moving, too involved with the noise causing him pain. Anon, on the other hand, ran back as far as possible.

A large cloud of energy shot down, nearly vaporizing all five programs. A human body, silhouetted in white, began rezzing in lines of code. A biker jacket, jeans, a games helmet, and sneakers came along with the figure, following the resolution process. His disk shone brightly as he unraveled his helmet. Sandy blond hair, stuck up at the end, shot out the forgotten helmet.

Sam Flynn observed his surroundings, then amazingly half-groaned, "I actually did it. I'm back on the Grid."

* * *

A/N: Greetings from Florida! So if you noticed the subtle reference (And by subtle I mean slap-in-the-face obvious), you'll know that the General attacking the Triskelion is a Grid version of the Carnage Symbiote from Spider-Man comics. And I came up with a trailer for the sequel, Tron: Unlimited, but I'll wait until I finish the epilouge. Speaking of which, the finale will a five chapter arc known as EndGame. The Epilouge will be titled "Epilouge: End of Line"(Go figure), and will bring in a trailer and characters for Tron: Unlimited. If you go to my profile, you will see the OC contest at the bottom of my news feed.

Wanted to thank you guys for sticking through till the End of the Line. I only intended for this to be a one-shot fic, but people like it so much, nd insisted I expand. I did, and you guys still want more. I'm pleased to announce that Aftermath has reached over twenty chapters of Anon, Tron, Delta and Light Guard. Thank you all for being great allies in my fight to free the Grid.

Next: Beck recalls how Argon fell, Tron and Paige put the hammer on Flauge, and Sam assists Anon and the Light Guard in stopping Carnage from achieving his ultimate goal: Sinking the Triskelion.


	22. Chapter 22: Don't Press the Red Button

Chapter 22: Don't Press the Red Button

Tron's mask kept an expression of mild anger from escaping into the open world. Two tons of metal shielded him from the scanners that Flauge placed around the elevator shaft. Metal screamed in agony from the sparks Tron issued on his way down. A loud, feminine grunt caught Tron off guard. When he reached the shaft's bottom, he found the reason. Paige was ferociously fighting herself. But it was so hard to tell which was the real her. One was pre-Delta, the other was post. One could be disguising as the other, and Tron wouldn't be able to tell. White or green...

Tron made up his mind as he swung into the shaft. "Friendly neighborhood Tron, at your service!" Tron shouted, kicking the Paige with green circuits through the head. "Ta Daaa! Nothing to it!" Tron barely had time to register the swing of a metal pipe to his head by the Paige with white circuits. A backflip and he realized his chronological error. "Aw, Users... wrong Paige..." Tron barely had time to regret his wrong decision as the fake Paige transformed into him. Tron flipped, knowing more than Prototype 45 ever would of his physical prowess, and smashed his boot into faux-Tron's neck. A sickening crunch resounded through the lab, and 45 fell to the ground, completely motionless of life.

"Well... that could've gone smoother," Tron muttered, scratching his head. Picking Paige up, he slapped her several quick times across her left cheek. Paige woke up, grunting in pain.

"What in the name of the Users, man?!" Paige barked sharply, causing Tron to drop her again. "Nice shot you are!"

"Eh, sorry," Tron apologized, helping Paige back up, "Hey, look on the bright side: Your hair covers up any permanent markings." Paige glared at him and Tron ceased. "Okay, major point. Sorry, couldn't tell which was which."

"Beck had the same problem," Paige chipped in, "It's scary, not even knowing in the past what CLU had going on in Bismuth. I'd been on Pacificator hundreds of times in Tesler's army, and I'd never seen this room. There were even rooms on Tesler's ship that required access by CLU, Jarvis or Dyson themselves."

"Okaaaay." Tron remained stoic, yet his eyes were wide in fright. His attention blazed in seconds and he dropped, pulling Paige with him. The two managed to get to the ground and barrel-roll as a streak of lightning shot overhead. The blast collided with the nearest wall and caused an explosion that crippled all systems on that wall, and scorched whatever remained to black.

"You may have thwarted me twice, but your puny Coalition will never usurp the almighty power of CLU!" Flauge's expression was insanity written all over. He was easy to anger, if it wasn't obvious enough, but he must have been assigned away from Tron City.

"So, you think that we can't take your entire force down with an entire army?" Tron questioned sarcastically, "Have you seen the piles of Sentry bodies that two of us derezzed singlehandedly? If so, you need some major mental checks." In a scream of rage, Flauge grabbed Tron and began punching the System Monitor repeatedly in the face. Cracks began forming in the mask, but the new Coalition helmets were designed to take thousands of blows from similar situations. Tron grunted as his body recoiled from the forces of the punch. Shards of energy began splintering into Flauge, allowing him to grunt in pain and grimace in agony.

"So long, Monitor," Flauge grinned, before he suddenly gasped and let go of Tron. A Light Sword had jammed itself into his chest, and his hands were twitching in spasms of pain. A few sudden flashes and the program dissolved, floating in a way that was almost like sand blowing away.

"So long, Flauge," Tron said, "I hope this puts an end to your troubles." Paige held the Light Sword, like it was a disease, holding it away in fright of her own powers. Tron put his hand on Paige's shoulder and gestured to the elevator. "I guess we owe Sivet some help."

* * *

Sivet casually stood in elevator 24 as it sailed through the inner workings of the _Pacificator. _Headlights would occasionally shift by and shine in his face, but the automatic transitioning lens in hi helmet reduced the glare by 78%: Enough that the lights shone in his face were nothing more than the lights in Tron city from a bird's eye view.

The door to the bridge hissed open, and the Sentries continued doing their duties like nobody had even flicked a light switch. Sivet, unamused with these results, coughed loudly, but still received no response. Sivet finally gave up, pulling out his gun and pulling the trigger through a Sentry's head. The thirty remaining Sentries gasped and drew their disks. Sivet just shrugged, and drew two Light Katanas.

"I think we know where this is going." Sivet grinned in an amused manner, and swung his swords to block the incoming disks, and to slash holes in the chests of unguarded Sentries. In under two minutes, all of the Sentries that had once been surrounding him were either derezzed or incapacitated, either by lost limbs, or by just a mere knockout.

"One word of advice, my friend," Sivet said, walking over to a console and throwing a decapitated Sentry off the chair, "Don't mess with the Coalition, especially it's higher ranks." A lift opened, and Sivet turned to see Tron and Paige stepping out of the cramped space to join him.

"I've signaled the self-destruct feature," Sivet said, activating a large red button, "Within twelve millicycles, this ship will be cubes. You two might want to start running, like, right now."

The three bolted, leaping out the glass window, shattering it with their trespassing. A loud timer beeped, alerting them how long they had left. A loud eruption blazed from the lab, bringing it closer, just after the three escaped the force field. Fire blazed, filling the dome by every centimeter.

"Well, that was...exhilarating." Tron nodded and helped Paige and Sivet back to their feet. "All right. Let's get back to Argon."

* * *

"Wait, let me get this straight," Anon said, pointing a finger at Sam, who had rezzed in and let Carnage escape with only mild injuries, "'You're telling me that you can beat Carnage? Without any real weapons?"

"Well... yeah, I guess." Sam looked at Anon, "I mean, Carnage just sounds like a lame ripoff from a Marvel comic. And creepy smiles here is weak to two things: fire and supersonic frequencies. If we can lure him into a closed system and corner him, we can use the reverse magna setting on your disks..."

"You mean our disks," Flad corrected, folding his arms in annoyance, "Just because you have the Flynn jacket doesn't mean that you don't have a disk. If you don't want to help, Portal's this way..." Flad drew his disk and brought it centimeters from Sam's chin.

"Who said I didn't want to be part of this?!" Sam yelped, the white edge buzzing at his chin hair, "I'm just stating that unlike you, I'm not programmed to take down a weapon of mass destruction. I can barely even take down two Sentries without injuring myself."

"Well, despite the fact that you may be more of a setback than an asset, we could still use you," Anon said, giving Sam a spare Light Sword, "You're a User, after all. You just need the opportunity to manifest your powers. Maybe then you'll be able to match your father." Anon and the Light Guard popped open a manhole and clambered down, giving Sam time to join them and catch up.

A large smell filled Sam's nose, turning his face green within seconds. Gases, a faint blue in color, escaped pores in thick bursts. "Sewers." Sam held his nose and grimaced. "How... cliché."

"Not like we have much choice," Anon said, activating a floodlight installed in his helmet. Light manifested across several meters of once dark sewage. "Argon's sewer system leads to a half-destroyed energy mine. The energy in that mine should radiate enough heat to melt Carnage. But we need to lure him into the sewer, and chase him into the mine. Think you can manage that, junior?"

"Manage it?" Sam scoffed. His mask flipped onto his head, and he drew his unlit disk. "I think I know my programming." Anon, nodding in agreement, motioned for the others to douse their circuits, lights, anything that glowed. As the team moved further into the darkness, Pyro tapped Riot on the shoulder and whispered, "I like the new kid here. He's catchy."

* * *

A/N: On the final... what, eight chapters? Doesn't matter, still having a ball. Sam's on the Grid, Beck's broken, s'all good. Just wish Beck could've made that explosion... ah, well. Can't win 'em all..

Anyway, got the new Renegade artwork for Tron: Unlimited. If anybody wants to see the new design, go to Twitter and look me up QuilSniv (or just check my bio), or you can pm me and see before anyone else. May take a while before I can get back to you, though. Thanks to PrincessKai317, who's like the only person reading my fics right now (jk) and all those other random guests reading.

Next: Sam, Anon and the Light Guard finish off Carnage, and Beck gets some visits by the main cast. The Coalition army begins preparations for the final assault on Tron City, but require a small team to get inside. Send in the Aftermath Squadron... (No, seriously, that's their squad name.)


	23. Chapter 23: Means to An End

Chapter 23: Means to an End

Beck's unconscious form lay strewn in a medical bed, machines mentally checking him for any signs of deresolution. Argon Emergency Medical Center was one of the largest hospitals on the Grid, and it's reputation was well known for never letting a single program derezz, unless you counted that group of five programs derezzed in terrorist attack on the hospital by General Tesler in TC400. He had made a story up that the Renegade was holed up there with a group of followers. This, of course, was just a way to intimidate the programs into slipping into his iron fist.

Paige and Tron sat outside, with Sivet and Japter standing guard to the room. Their laser rifles at the ready, they loosened their militaristic stance once the medic came out of the hospital room.

"So, give it straight, doc," Tron said, "How's he doing?" Tron's face remained fixed in an angry frown through the entire sentence, while Paige just stood silently with a neutral facial expression.

"Well, he's in better condition than we first thought," the medic said, activating several holograms so he, Tron, Paige and the two Light Guard could observe the results. "He sustained about third of the predicted concussions, seems to have perfect memory from his last concussion test, knows the Cycle, has only a twisted leg and arm, and should be back in combat in about seven cycles."

"Well, then," Tron said, making some changes on his wrist-pad, "Guess we'll have to reschedule our takeoff for fourteen Cycles after today."

"Wait... takeoff?" Sivet questioned, not aware of Tron's plans, "What're you talking about?"

"While you were in Jetrona," Tron explained, showing the Light Guard the battle plans, "the other higher-ranking members decided that since we've pretty much won the war, there's only one last target: Tron City. The core of the Grid. If we take Tron City, the capital of the Grid, then we also take the entire Grid. We have the western Grid occupied by Coalition troops, and we can instantly take back our entire system if we take only Tron City."

"So, if we take this final target..." Japter did some equations in his head, then turned back, "We've pretty much won the war."

"Sounds like a plan," Paige said, taking control of the datapad, "I'll rally what troops are in Argon, and we'll collect the rest in Jetrona, Bismuth and Gallium." Gallium was never taken over by the Occupation, just used as a junction for large Occupation forces on their way to new territories. It did have it's own military beforehand, which had volunteered for the Coalition Ranks long before it's main base became the Triskelion, deep in Argon waters. Paige, however, feared it wouldn't be enough.

* * *

Beck watched as the five programs, one of them his half-savior, inspect the battle plans for a large-scale assault on Tron City. Even though he couldn't hear them, he knew what they were discussing: The final play. Operation: Endgame. The entire war was resting on this one last assault. If they won, the Occupation would be forced to surrender it's entire forces to the Coalition. Everyone could go back to their lives, like they were before the ISO War. If they lost... the Coalition was crippled for life. They would never recover from the loss of life. No matter who won, somebody was going to lose. And thousands more were going to die.

"-Until then, make sure Beck is out of combat for seven cycles," the medic explained, injecting a painkiller into Beck's arm, making him wince in temporary agony. "There you go. Just stay on your feet, don't get too paranoid, and you'll do fine for your part in the final operation."

"Whadd'ya mean?" Beck questioned in an innocent manner.

"We're pulling off our final battle," Tron said, handing Beck the datapad, "And you're coming with Anon, the Light Guard and me as our Spec Ops squadron. Aftermath Squad."

"Alright," Beck grinned, slipping out of his hospital bed, his Light suit back to full restoration, "If it means ending the Grid War faster, maybe even end it next cycle, then I'm in." Beck's monologue was interrupted as a hole smashed into the wall, a large, red and hideous creature sprinting through it. Orange circuits were the creases in the blob of hell, and it's devilish grin was even scarier than it's menacing eyes.

"Users!" Tron shouted, rezzing in his rifle, Japter and Sivet raising their own, "It's Carnage! Stall for time! Paige, get Beck and medic Fisk out of here!" Paige complied, leading the other two programs through the heavy war zone. Bullets poured out the barrel, landing pointlessly in Carnage's liquid-like body.

"What the hell is goin' on here!" Flynn shouted, rushing through the hole, "Holy!-" Flynn was overtaken by Carnage, who was biting at User savagely. A large, sonic blast interrupted Carnage's work, the remaining four Light Guard stepping through the door. Anon soon followed, and last but not least...

"Sam Flynn?" Tron gaped, Flynn also staring at his son in shock. "I thought that you went back to the User World."

"Eh, found a way back." Sam raised his disk and fired a sonic wave at Carnage, who shrieked in wretched pain. "We tried chasing him into an old energy mine, but he gave us the slip and chased us here. Guess we need to improvise." Tron nodded, understanding the situation and opened his comlink. "Computer, activate flamethrowers in room 5Y, and lock onto tile 45H." Four large, cylindrical devices with a flickering ember on an end, flew out of the ceiling, and released their full might onto the one program, if it was a program.

Carnage released a scream of pain, his body exerting gas that resembled poison. Ten of the programs in the room cast anti-mag sonics on the creature. A loud hiss and the slimy cover around the creature exploded onto the walls of the room.

The creature slid towards Beck. Beck, completely harnessed to the creature, made out a muffled cry. The creature grinned, then frowned in shock as a loud, grinding noise came through Carnage's body. Beck's body punched Carnage into the flamethrower's vicinity, a loud, high-pitched scream it's last words.

"Beck!" Tron said, helping his comrade up, "Carnage... healed you! His structure removed the damaged code and brought in new code... you're fixed!" Beck looked to see if Tron was correct. And he was. The scratches that tarnished his Delta uniform were erased, along with the black eye and his broken jaw.

"Users, Tron..." Hax muttered, "you might want to see who Carnage was controlling." Tron strolled over to the deactivated flamethrowers and gaped at who he saw, unconscious the whole ordeal.

"No way," Tron choked, "It can't be... Yori."

* * *

A/N: Plot twist all the way! Who would've thought that Tron's half-girlfriend would be one of his greatest foes? Anyways, this and the next chapter, "REvolution" (Yeah, the capital "E" is intentional)., will be the final chapters before the EndGame Arc and Epilouge. Hope you all have enjoyed our time in Aftermath, and make sure you check the QuilSniv website before September 1st. The site will be posted August 18th, for future reference. Thanks to PrincessKai317 for helping me with a subbar problem, and for her awesome review.

Nect: Tron, Anon, Delta and the Light Guard begin preparations for their covert Op, and Yori and Paige are inducted as the captains of the two fleets. The two groups then begin their deployments for the final battle in Tron City.


	24. Chapter 24: REvolution

Chapter 24: REvolution

" And that's all five million available soldiers in attendance," Anon said, reading off the checklist, "According to the roster and medical services, about ten percent of our original headcount is stuck with either program's foot, Hobgoblin's clixel, or faulty circuits. We can't have diseased and contagious programs on the battlefield, or else the disease'll spread like what Sam calls 'Wildfire'." Hundreds upon thousands of soldiers were gearing up for the near battle. Helmets, batons of every sort, they were pretty much well-prepared. That didn't, however, solve the issue of Troop shortage.

"We don't have much choice about troop counts," Tron said, clasping his neck with his hand and leaning back in his chair, "If we fail the battle, we'll likely only lose about twenty percent, and if these programs are better by the time we return, then we use those to fill our ranks back up. It's the only plan in terms of head counts."

"If we're lucky," Beck had his own input, as a high ranking Captain in the Coalition's Spec Ops program, and he was using it. "then we can get each of our soldier a thirty to one deresolution ratio. If we have Flynn boost the army's durability, then we could possibly get a thirty five to one deresolution ratio."

"Flynn's already done that," Tron said, viewing the logs from last cycle, "So, if your prediction is correct, which they usually are-" Beck smirked with pride, leaning back in his own chair in a relaxed state, "- that means we have the battle under our control. We've won."

"But there's one problem," Anon stated, bringing up a hologram of Tron City, "Actually, make that two. The city has two bridges, and only about five out of six troops can be deployed within the city as paratroopers. Our other troops, from Light Tanks and stolen Recognizers to Light Jets, will have to make it into the city on foot. If you remember the last time the three of us went there..."

"Tron City was a nightmare," Beck shivered, not wanting to relive the experience, "There were hundreds of Sentries on that one bridge, just waiting to rip me apart. I even went through the Outlands before they saw me."

"I guess that means our first priority is getting that blockade destroyed," Tron concluded, doing some equations in his head, "If we can't use long range weapons to destroy the blockade, then we'll just have to drop in bombs from air support. Wait.. did you say two problems?" Anon nodded and drew a half circle over the two dimensional drawing of Tron City.

"Since the recents events of Bismuth, the Portal, Argon and elsewhere, Tron City has been protecting itself with a city-wide force field. Any long-range attack on the city would be useless. Our only option here is to send in a covert and well disguised team of programs to take it out."

"And let me guess," Tron frowned, cupping his hands and resting his chin on them, "By covert team of programs, you mean the three of us and the Light Guard." Anon nodded and Tron groaned, Beck joining him in his incessant and motion-ridden complaints. "This had better end within a few Cycles, because this is getting real old."

* * *

"Heliod," Tron barked, marching with the entire Aftermath Squad into the room. "You better have something good here. We need new tech to counter CLU's forces. Otherwise, we're technically outmatched." Heliod, a former inventor at GridTech Labs in Argon, had a large laboratory table filled with new mechanical devices magnetized to it.

"I think you'll enjoy playing with these new toys," Heliod stated, gesturing towards a small group of pinball-sized, glowing devices, "These are Nano Bombs. Once they are deployed and detonated, the timer shrinks them to the size of an atom, and explode with the force of a Light Charge. You'll be dumping them behind the sabotaged troop convoy we've stolen from Tesler's wrecked ship, and they'll make the fireworks."

Moving over to the far left side of the table, Heliod nodded to three Jump Drives, with Tron, Anon and Beck's names engraved upon their surface. "These are your Occupation uniforms. Based on previous outfits that you all have worn during your respective rebellions, we were able to create mew ones designed to your specifications." Each program picked one up and inserted it just an inch into their disks. In seconds, each program was coated in thin, averagely noticeable orange circuits. Beck's only circuits remained on his helmet and shoulder armor, his Delta emblem glowing on his chest. Tron's outfit remained the same, since Rinzler was never found, let alone searched for, and thus presumed active. Anon's remained the same, though slightly edited to resemble that of a Sentry.

"These shall be your outfits while sneaking through the blockade," Heliod continued in a sophisticated manner, "They are locked with a code scanner. You must press your fingertip to the scanner, and it shall recognize your code and allow you to change back into your regular war uniforms."

"Ugh.. Orange circuits..." Beck hissed, locking the uniform and changed into it. The orange spread into Beck's Circuitry, sparking a loud pop once the transition was created. "This is so last Cycle. Also, blue. Blue is awesome. Or-"

"Sorry," Heliod blandly ground out, "Occupation chose their color first. No take-backsies." Beck frowned with a hint of playful pouting, changing back into his Delta uniform. Heliod guided them to a view of a large troop staging hangar, where a large Occupation Troop Transport (OTT) stood, waiting for their usage. "That will be the transport you take to through the Blockade. It has been equipped with hidden missile launches and laser turrets in the case of a hostile escape. Which reminds me..." Heliod pressed a button on the wall. A wall retracted to allow the wall behind the wall to slide out, holding their rifles and many other projectile weapons. "I have some other toys for you to test."

"Wouldn't hurt to try out some new proto's." Tron folded his arms and observed the batons and weapons before him. It took several minutes before Beck spoke, breaking the awkward silence. "I don't get it. They look just like our old rifles."

"Exactly," Heliod stated in a blunt manner, handing Tron a baton. "That's what we want them to think. How it really works is this: We upgraded the baton so that with the flick of a switch a button on the baton-" she smirked in pleasure as a modifying wave came over the baton. "It changes the rifle's format. There are five modes: Normal bullets, ballistic miniature missiles, smoke launchers, taser nets, and Reversal Pulses."

"Wait... did I just hear the word 'Reversal blast'?" Anon questioned in subtlety. "What the Users does that mean? Some sort of 'hello, you're dead' kind of gag?"

"Speaking of Users, you're on the right trail, Anon." Heliod grinned and opened a wall, with a Sentry bound to the other side. "Watch this." Picking up the rifle, she pointed the weapon, on Reversal mode, and fired. The Sentry did not derezz, however, instead turning back into the program he presumably was before the whole repurposing.

"Take him to the medical bay," Heliod barked to two officers, who quickly complied and dragged the unconscious program away. Beck grinned and held the weapon up. "Behold! The power of a User in the confinements of a Pew-Pew gun!" Beck then started to comically hug the device like a flotation device that had saved his life.

"Well, that's just dandy," Tron said, putting his batons on his back, "I guess we should get some rest, because we've earned it." All three programs stood there, forgetting the meaning of rest. Heliod finally pushed them out the door, allowing her some peace and quiet.

"All of you, shoo. I'm a busy program." Tron gave her puppy dog eyes, but Heliod closed the door, causing Beck to shout from his hands getting crushed in the space.

* * *

"So I'm guessing this is it." Beck loaded his supplies into his wing chute, which had been modified to hold medical supplies and other various materials. "We're the driving forces behind this assault. If we fail, the whole operation is a failure. Then we should use that as motivation."

"Besides, our loved ones are the ones making the choices in the sky," Tron added, "Paige and Yori are the ones calling the shots. They were recently installed as Fleet Commanders. If we fail... they die. So let's make our part count."

"Agreed," Hax nodded, with the other Light Guard joining him in a unanimous shaking of their heads. "We can make the difference. Just make sure we can make a big explosion."

"We're ready," Tron completed his groups speech, and crawled into the driver's seat. "Oh, and by the way, you're driving half-way." Beck grinned, climbed into the back of the vehicle with the Light Guard, and watched his home taken away from him again, and being replaced by orange lights. And as he looked through the transparent window, he realized all of his actions had been fruitful. But if he made one slip up, then nobody would be able to call their cities home. They would all be dead.

He had to win. There was no other way of putting it. _He had to win_.

* * *

A/N: So this is it, everybody. The final battle is upon us. If anybody has any legit ideas regarding the battle, contact me. If anybody has questions, leave it in the review box so I know how to respond correctly. Favorites and Followers are loved, as always, and thanks to the crowd of people who stayed for the whole show. Remember, in about six chapters, we're killing the power, with EndGame and Epilouge.

Funny thing is, I was writing the last section to "Unwavering Emotions" from Pokemon Black and White. Look it up, everybody loves it, unless you think crying is a sin.

Next: After sneaking through the blockade far too easily, Aftermath Squadron realizes that CLU's final General was expecting them within the Shield Generator Room.


	25. Chapter 25: EndGame, Pt 1

Chapter 25: EndGame, Pt 1

The Sentry at Watch Post 14 was aware of the oncoming OTT approaching the barrier at a very fast pace. Then again, most vehicles came in at this speed, but this was the first OTT to approach the city since the force field was installed. Not likely to just let the vehicle pass, the Sentry ordered his inferiors to inspect the vehicle for Coalition soldiers.

The vehicle halted just inches from the nearest Sentry's staff, and two more stepped out to check the vehicle. "Identify yourselves, programs." The Sentries still spoke in that lobotomized voice, which clearly annoyed the living Cyclelights out of Beck. His mask still hid his identity and rage, as well as his orange circuits hiding his true identity.

"Unit 9769, reporting for active duty in Tron City." Beck said, his real voice garbled by a voice-editor installed by Heliod, "I'm here as a transfer from Cadmium City. I have Black Guard Units 3, 6, 14, 16, 21 and 30, and Elite Unit 6723 as newly scheduled units. They were due to arrive seven Cycles ago, but the events in Bismuth delayed us." Beck duh into his wing chute and dug out a datapad. "I also have Unit RINZLER-1A in recovery from the Sea of Simulation. All on this datapad." The Sentry, upon hearing the name Rinzler, looked inside and saw an orange-circuited Tron lounging in the passenger seat. Tron waved at the Sentry, causing said Sentry to stand upright as a plank.

"Rinzler is entering the base," the Sentry shouted, permitting the other Sentries to join him in salute, "Priority-Class entrance codes automatic. Procedure inevitable. Deactivate force field for at least 2 full millicycles. Proceed." Beck, still hiding his rage of being ordered around by a Sentry, nodded slowly and drove through the force field. Tron flipped a switch and a small compartment unrolled, the small Nano Bombs clinking out of the bottom of the transport. Too small for the Sentries standing guard to notice, the bombs began glowing with a loud, deep beep to frighten the Sentries into thinking there was an OTT malfunction.

Every Sentry is automatically updated upon repurposing with a built-in version of Grid Vehicle Maintenance and Malfunctions. Because every Sentry is uploaded with the latest edited issue of the manual when repurposed, and a telepathic link would not be worth wasting on expendable Sentries, it is imperative that a Sentry be sent to a Disk Station at least a Cycle after the newest manual is issued for military use. But because of recent events in the Western side of the Grid, and the trouble the rising Coalition was causing, Sentries had been unavailable for an update in Vehicle maintenance since TC400, around the time of the Argon Renegade's first appearance. The Sentry's first reflex action would be 5 seconds to locate Grid Vehicle Maintenance and Malfunctions within their inner module algorithms. Another 6 seconds would be used trying to uselessly locate the OTT model 6.0 in the reference guide. Another 3 seconds would be spent checking the index. Another second would be wasted trying to activate a sound-recognition program. By the time their audio input revealed the cause of the noise in a matter in 5 seconds, it had let it's fillings loose, taking every Sentry and Guard at Watch Post 14 with it.

* * *

OTT -9 ground to a halt just meters away from their destination: Generator Tower 1A. A large, menacing structure that held the finest of CLU's forces, it stood at an amazing height of 1 mile, 45 feet and 6 inches, and stood even wider, impossible to tell without a really long tape measurer or a schematic of the building.

All nine members of Aftermath Squadron exited the vehicle, and Beck comically held a remote and chirped "Blip blip". As soon as the building was entered, the uniforms of the Coalition spread across their bodies.

"One day I need a jacket like Flynn's," Beck said, watching his Delta uniform come back to him, "I'll even put the Delta symbol on it."

"By the way, nice Unit numbers you made up for the Light Guard." Tron sounded sincere, but Beck shrugged off the compliment.

"They only sounded nice because that was their original Unit Number before they became Light Guard."

"That'll be the day," Hax verbally grinned, "I remember the days before we were Black Guards, or even Sentries. We were all System Monitors at that point, before TC304. Everybody was... happy. There was no war. But when CLU took over, all he did was declare war. And he's getting war in User Hell."

"Eh, what's done is done," Pyro optimized, "But this whole ISO War was a mistake. And if we don't fix a mistake, then that's a second mistake on our resume."

"Alright, men," a sharp voice cutting off Japter. Aftermath Squadron looked around the corner, to see a tall man with CLU's circuits addressing a squadron of Sentries. "A little while ago, Watch Post 14 was destroyed by what appears to be a sabotaged OTT. According to the driver, he had Black Guard units from the_ first_ batch. Those Units were repurposed into Coalition ranks as their top operatives. If they destroy this building, I fear that the Coalition will have already have won the battle. Our empire will be lost."

"Ohhh, you are so right." A sound of gun cocking filled the air, blue lasers striking the entire squadron of Sentries before him. All seven shrank to the ground, reversed from their modifications. A thin, muscular program stood in the hallway, a white "D" engraved in his chest.

"Delta!" The program shouted, pushing on his mask before facing Delta. "You did this! You are reversing my progress! You are destabilizing the system!"

"Yeah, don't think so." Delta held up a recorder, bearing the words, "RADIO TOWER". The program recoiled at the hideous sight to his eyes. "That little monologue you just gave was broadcasted across the City. We hacked your Public Speaking program and created a little souvenir." Delta looked at it and smirked behind his mask. His voice gave away the facial expression. "I think I'll put this one next to my CycleShift Stand. I'll use it to make sure I recharge." The program bellowed a cry of rage, tackling Beck and throwing punches inaccurately at the ground. Any hits that appeared would make contact, Delta swung his head like a pendulum.

The next punch was interrupted by the sound of a Disk activated. Two more followed, then four. White circuits replaced what the program believed should be the evil glare of Orange. Rinzler, returned to his rightful state of white, stepped out and unmasked himself. Tron was the real face.

"Alright, program," Tron said, folding his arms while Beck held the CLU imposter at Disk point. "You have exactly 2 nanocycles to tell me where we can find the Generator Room. You then have another, oh, half a nano to tell me what else you have going on here."

"But the answer was our master himself." The program unraveled his mask and watched as all of the programs surrounding him gasped in horror.

The face behind the mask was CLU's.

"What in the name of Users?!" Tron gaped, trying to fit logic within comprehension, "How many copies did Flynn make of himself?!"

"He didn't," CLU's face sadistically brightened as he explained the recent events, "Flynn never made any attempt to further the Grid's technology. But CLU decided for us to evolve. He invented a way to duplicate the coding of a program long ago."

"I remember reading old pre-Coalition documents about that tech," Anon said, thinking about the day they started sabotaging convoys, "Tron used a portable version to create Tron 2.0 and lead Delta to us."

"There could be more of CLU 2.0 if we dig deeper into this," Beck said, pulling up a holographic watch. "But we need to hurry. The Coalition will arrive at the start of next Cycle. And that's not too far from now. About 2 protocycles and 31 millicycles, approximately."

"We have to find whatever is going on here and shut it down." Tron turned around and slid a finger across the back of his neck. Without hesitation, behind Tron, Anon and Delta's backs, a loud, distorted scream was heard as a disk rolled across CLU 2.0's chest. Yet, somehow, Beck felt remorseful about killing an unarmed man. It had been wrong. And he had sworn to never do anything wrong.

But as he stood in the elevator, pondering to himself, he knew he had to kill to win. And it felt wrong to kill. And it meant that it was wrong to win. But this was for the freedom of the Grid, right? If you cared for something that much, you needed to take every measure of security necessary. And Beck still felt that, when he went down in history, the Grid would be far from peaceful. No matter how many lives were taken from the Occupation ranks.

All he could do was remain silent. And think.

* * *

"Captain," A program called to Paige, "All systems prepared, checked and ready."

"Good," Paige nodded, with Yori doing the same thing meters away, on the bridge of _Lucky Republic_. "Initiate the launch. Make sure the entire fleet is prepared for departure." Her associate nodded, pulling the switch of _Indomitable_, that would determine the fate of the entire Grid.

Fourteen _Indomitable_-Class battle ships rose into the Grid's sky, that being the only limits they were bestowed. One hundred ordnance cannons per ship were loaded, in the event that their plan didn't work accordingly. Yet, as a secondary back-up, they had twenty smaller _Artequis_-class battle cruisers, courtesy of Bismuth shipyards. Paige spoke five words before leaving Argon behind.

"Freedom, In Users we Trust."

_ To Be Continued... _(Ha, Cliffhanger!:D)

* * *

A/N: Alright, finale time! You can see that Beck is slipping, noticing the lengths Tron is going to complete his end of the deal. The way I see it, there may be some finale battle, but there will also be some in-fighting. Also, CLU clones! Going pro with this thing!

I'm going to give a shout-Out to PrincessKai317, who has recently toppled SonicFighter21354's reign of having the most reviews for Aftermath so far. Another shou-out to 2theSky, who is wrapping up Book 3 in the Embers Series. I won't update for another week, with school starting and my trip home from Florida, not to mention major renovations to the house.

**OC contest! Anybody who has favorited or followed my fic and has before Chapter 30 comes up, will be eligible to enter an OC contest. You may submit an OC request, with a full character description and their interests, but they will certainly recieve only a cameo. Do not beg for a cameo, because that will cause me to push you aside in leiu of somebody else. Those who submit their characters before Chapter 30 comes around will be candidates in the drawing for the third main character for Tron: Unlimited, along with Travis and Natalie, the two other main characters. Just make sure it's aguy, and I promise I will install a secondary fourth character into the story. Just have fun, and every character submitted will have a cameo. Just review me your request or PM your request, and eat healthy... yep... I said eat healthy.**

Next: Aftermath Squadron realizes there are more CLU duplicates, and rush to destroy Shield Tower 1A before Paige and Yori arrive.

_**Beck: Woah, woah, woah.. is this going to be some kind of "Race against Time" Cliche?**_

_**Quil: Um... No?... It's a "Race against Comrades" original... heh.. yeah... I'm gonna start running now..**_

_**Aftermath Cast: GET HIM!**_


	26. Chapter 26: EndGame, Pt 2

Chapter 26: EndGame, Pt 2

If it wasn't for Heliod's technological masterpieces, Tron would have killed hundreds of Sentries by now. Instead, he used the Reversal Blast to his advantage, destroying their repurposing and leaving Beck to get them directions out of the building.

"So, what's next?" Beck questioned out loud, Tron pressing the elevator button. "Do we head to the cloning chambers or what?"

"I looked at CLU 2.0's disk, and it stated that the cloning facility is on the 50th floor, and descends downwards to floor 45."

"Sounds like they're trying to breed some kind of Super-Soldier, like the original Heavy Sentries," Anon put in, "From what I saw on the disk-" He tossed it to Beck and watched as the program opened the memory files, "-that clone we fought in the lobby was the first stable clone ever produced. All of the other previous clones were either unstable in coding or mentally insane. They kill all the rejects, which so far has been a majority."

"Huh..." Beck was mesmerized by the technology the Occupation was pitting, and deactivated the disk. "Doesn't sound pleasant. If we want to complete the mission, we have exactly 1 KilooCycle and 16 MicroCycles. Any way to supercharge the elevator?"

"I think so..." Anon took a power pack from his wing chute, and fused it into the elevator with several wires to assist him. He sliced his disk across the panel and the elevator shot upward, pushing all nine programs to the ground. The lift ground to a spark-filled halt, a dark hallway guiding them to their destination.

"Well," Tron said, clasping his helmet and looking down the night-resembling hallway, "This feels and looks welcoming." All nine members of Aftermath Squad filed out into the bleak and depressing corridor, as the door slid shut behind them. Hax sighed in defeat. "Well, guess we're stuck up here for now."

"But we can see ahead, remember?" Anon reprimanded jokingly. "Floodlights on." At Anon's command, eighteen floodlights gathered into the one thing they were looking for: a door. Pyro pulled at it, and as it flew open, gazed wide-eyed at what he saw. The others rushed in and followed suit.

"My Users..." Riot gaped, turning off his floodlights, for he no longer required them. They were in a large, plastic room, with dim, low-irritable LED lights hanging above. Glass tanks sheathed the sword that was CLU's army in his own, perfect image. Literally. Every tank held a visual copy of CLU, with one having maybe a facial disfiguration or having a streak of fuchsia in his hair. Beck guessed these were the rejects.

"Excellent setting they have going on," Beck said, inspecting the computer, "Though they may want to touch the place up. Add a few backdrops to their home screen, maybe put in a password... Oh hoooo!" Beck toothily smirked, pressing a button on the side of the computer. "And that, my friends, is why you never leave a button on the side of your computer." A large panel of ground slid from Sivet and Flad's feet, the both of them jumping away as a staircase fell into the angle of the light.

"Ooh la la..." Pyro whistled, squatting down to get a better view, "The hidden staircase gag... never thought I'd see CLU use tech like _that_. Who knew a deranged, perfection-obsessed dictator would go for a cliché that sad?"

"All the more reason to hate and make fun of him later." Tron stepped onto the first step to check the stability of the stair. It held his weight, which in turn meant a descent below. Floodlights activated again, prompting a more thorough investigation of the stairs below their level.

"You guys may want to be careful," Pyro shouted, looking downward, "There's a few stairs below us that look either unstable or are just plain gone. And there's nothing underneath them as far as I can tell."

"Gotcha," Tron nodded, then yelped as he fell through the next step he took. Anon's quick reflexes were the only thing keeping him from falling to a dark deresolution.

"Stop leaving me hanging there, man," Anon said, while the rest of the team groaned in irritation of Anon's terrible joke skills. Beck even said himself, "Anon, leave the wisecrack to a professional, such as myself." Anon frowned behind his mask, which Beck also grinned at behind his helmet. A loud crack, and Anon fell through his footing as well. Beck gripped the hand of his comrade, though felt the glove slipping out of his hand. Eventually one foot slipped up, then the other. Pyro gave out his hand, but the same result happened. Eventually, Hax was gripping the surface of the stair, with all of the other programs grappling another hand.

"Hey, ya mind grabbing something?" Hax groaned, attempting to keep his hold, "You guys aren't as light as you'd think..." Tron noticed a glow of light, and a Light Cycle popped in his head. "Hax, you still got that zipline from last Cycle?"

"Well, yeah," Hax said, shifting it down to Tron, who fired it at the glow. A piece of footing was barely below him. He tied the line in and handed a zipline to Anon, who joined him in traveling down the line, where their feet met solid ground. Beck followed suit, followed by Pyro, then Sivet, and the rest of the Black Guard.

"Well, that was a little too unenjoyable," Tron shivered, watching the zipline plummet into the depths below. "I've got a feeling we've earned what's behind here." At that moment, Tron's comlink beeped several times, to which Tron pressed the answer button. "Tron here. What's up?"

"T_ron, it's Yori_," a crackled voice monotoned, distorted between their height between the two, "_We're approaching the Tron City territory now. Please tell me you have that shield down._"

"Hey Yori, this is Sivet," the Light Guard intervened, "Yeahhh, we may have a little problem with that..."

"_In other words the shield isn't down. Is it, Tron?_"

The two stared at each other and blinked in surprise. "Um... Er... Tsk.. Yeah."

'_Tron, you need to hurry_!" Yori cried, exasperated by the delay. "_Our fleet will be arriving soon, and we're not sure how well these ships can fare against the _Rectifier-_class cruisers the Occupation has now. Please, do it quickly!_" The signal cut off and static filled the cavern. Beck watched Tron shut down his communicator and raised a boot to the door.

Tron looked at him in annoyance, to which Beck stated, "What? Like your girlfriend said, we're on a busy schedule." Tron rolled his eyes and allowed Beck to resume one of his favorite hobbies.

As the door went down, the first thing the nine programs laid eyes on was the most obvious. A huge generator. About as tall as the massive spire for seven floors, and about three-quarters of the width. The second thing they saw... another CLU clone.

* * *

"Well, big surprise," Beck said, drawing his rifle, "HEY! You there! Step away from the generator with your hands up!" The duplicate turned around, grinned, and pointed behind them. In response, the team was pushed forward by dozens of Sentries, stomping in a hypnotized manner, pushing them into teams of more Sentries. Hundreds of Sentries were consuming the team in MicroCycles.

"Now, programs," the CLU duplicate slid out his mouth, "Any last words?" Out of eyeshot, Beck's hand reached and grabbed Tron's rifle baton out of his hand. A loud whirring came out as Beck raised both rifles and fired a continuous laser. The other eight members of Aftermath Squadron dropped to the ground, watching Beck's arms rotate and weave a guilt of bullets. Sentries fell like rats, the shell around them derezzing into regular programs.

"Yeah! Welcome to the laser fest!" Beck shouted over the roar of his Reversal Blasts, watching the Sentries plummet to the floor. "_Never felt this energized before... it must be the fact that I'm taking down hundreds of Sentries by myself... I feel stronger... faster... and it's not like the Upgrade Prototype. I feel... under control._" Before Beck snapped out of his thoughts, the bullets had brought down every Sentry under the roof.

"Well, that didn't take too long," Beck murmured, handing Tron's rifle back to him, and looking around for a sign of the CLU clone. He then turned his attention to the massive generator and an epiphany struck him. "Wait, didn't Anon's wing chute fall into the never-ending staircase? That one had our explosives in it! And we can't go back to the surface, because the Sentries will have either disabled our vehicle or discovered the Nano Bombs."

"Great, so we're at a roadblock, as always," Hax griped, flinging a work wrench from a shelf at the door. "So now what do we do?" Beck grabbed a rifle baton from the nearest program's unconcious forms, activated his own rifle and began firing countless shots at the generator. Several cracks sprung in the glass casing, barely holding itself together. Beck turned hi head and shouted, "How about we try THIS!" The other programs, with some skepticism and hesitation, activated their own rifles, and began their own massacre of glass.

A few MicroCycles in, a computer screen flashed with red lights. Tron motioned for the Squad to stop, and observed the monitor's damage description. The words "Warning! Collateral Damage exceeds maximum limit. Shutdown and self-destruct commencing in 10.. 9..." began screaming through the P.A., a visual copy joining it. Tron looked up and shouted, "We have to get out! Move, MOVE!" All the programs in Aftermath Squadron began racing for the nearest exit, kicking it down and racing up the stairs.

"It's a lost cause!" Pyro shouted, grabbing a baton. "Everybody, grab onto me!" As everybody did, blue flames spread through the corridor. A light Jet formed around Hax, pulling everybody up at high speed. Ironically, the faster they went, the flames went faster than they did.

"Uh, Pyro.." Sivet muttered, "You may want to go a bit faster..."

"Working on it! Beck, pop the lid. See if you can increase the speed on this thing by about 12 percent!"

"Are you kidding? This Light Jet's already strained! It'll become too unstable before we reach an exit... Besides, I can't reach my recoder. It's on my left thigh, and it's not the best time to let go!"

"Alright, then." Pyro shoved his Jet's gear into the maximum level, and pushed out of the staircase as a shower of fire and molten code spewed out of Generator Tower 1A. While the Light Jet crashed into the ground, the entirety of Aftermath Squadron gazed upward, past the volcano of coding. The transparent, liquid-reminiscing barrier peeled away, as fourteen massive warships came into view. Rubble streaked down, civilians screamed and rushed to safe zones, set up by inside agents from the Coalition. And nine programs observed their handiwork, as the voices of thousands of Coalition soldiers rained down and cheered for their victory.

The battle for Tron City had begun.

* * *

The second part of the finale done. I've already got Pt. 3 done, but I want to release it later, after school starts and I can organize a real schedule. By the way, guys, PrincessKai317 has already given me an OC, and so she has a guaranteed chance of her OC being the third main character. If nobody else submits by the end of the fic, which is the epilouge, then she automatically wins. Then again, she probably'll win in a landslide. Thanks for her help in helping me create the Grid time System, as well as thanks to 2theSky, who was also a founder of the Grid Chrono Project. Both of you, keep up the good work!

So, anyways. The battle has begun. Only one side will win, but only time will tell the victor. Hope you guys don't get bored by my cliche'd mini-trailer, and stay awesome. The QuilSniv website will be released on September 20th, by which DJ Remix and I hope to get the first FicCast voiced and edited. Also, writing the first Chapter of Tron: Unlimited, and I hope to get the trailer released within the end of the month.

Next: Beck and Tron go aerial, hoping to buy time for Aftermath Squadron to destroy the Weapons Anti-frequency Tower. Anon and the Light Guard race to stop Yori from committing to even further extreme measures to ensure victory, and the Flynns spend some father-son quality time on the battlefield.


End file.
